


What Lies Behind Us

by Barrowight



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist, Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003), Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-09
Updated: 2015-10-17
Packaged: 2018-02-12 01:21:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 46,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2090400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Barrowight/pseuds/Barrowight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ed travels to the other side of the Gate, only to find a second Amestris waiting for him... and a second pair of brothers. But some things aren't as they were, and soon all the Elrics are caught up in a new fight. '03/Brotherhood fusion. (Cross-posted to FF.net.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Forgotten Days

**Author's Note:**

> As you might have guessed from the summary, this is an AU where the Gate in the 2003 anime (or Amestris-1) leads not to our world but to the Brotherhood anime (Amestris-2). The original idea came from Tumblr user ruinsofxerxes, so go thank her for that. I hope you like it!

_“Well, well. This situation seems familiar.”_

_Edward found himself in the same featureless white expanse he had visited not too many years ago, dominated solely by the sardonic voice of the being some called Truth._

_“I suppose you’re here for your brother?” Truth continued in that strange voice of his – hers – its? Never mind._

_“Yeah, you know the drill,” Edward snapped. “Give him back! He’s not dead, so I’m not breaking any taboos or anything -” Well, at least he_ hoped  _he wasn’t. He wasn’t sure he could take the pain of failing again._

_“You alchemists, always looking for a loophole,” said Truth, though not without a hint of fondness. “That is correct. It is certainly within my power to return Alphonse Elric to the physical world. But what will you give me in return?”_

_“Anything,” replied Edward without hesitation, showing Truth the six circles inscribed on his skin with his own blood – the very same as the ones he had drawn all those years ago. Guess he hadn’t learned from his mistakes after all._

_“Fine. Then let it be done.” Behind Truth’s seated figure, the Gate opened - wait, hadn’t the Gate been behind_ Edward _? Was this some kind of trick?_

_“It’s not a trick.” Truth’s voice, brusquely interrupting his thoughts, seemed to come from far away; Edward realized with a shock that he was already halfway through the enormous doors. “Welcome to the other side of the Gate.”_

 

**AMESTRIS-2**

In another world, the sun was setting over Liore.

“That was a complete waste of time,” grumbled Ed as he and Al walked off to the train station. “After all that hard work, we didn’t even get the Philosopher’s Stone.”

“Oh, don’t be like that, Brother,” said Al. “We met a lot of people and took down a corrupt government… I’d say that was worth the effort. And Rose is right behind us, so you might want to keep your voice down.”

Ed turned discreetly and saw her glaring at him from the top of the steps.  _Oh_. Well, she’d stopped crying, at least.

“It’s your own fault, you know,” Al went on. “If you’d been a little less rude during your lecturing, maybe she would’ve liked us more.”

“Those weren’t  _lectures_ , Al, they were  _valuable life lessons._ There’s a difference. Anyway, I’m gonna have to buy a new coat after that fight with Cornello –”

“That wasn’t his fault. You ripped it off yourself, remember?”

“It was for dramatic effect!”

A shrill scream split the air, stopping both brothers dead in their tracks. Ed whirled around, ready for another round of beration. “Rose, what the hell –”

“ _It’s under your feet!_ ” she shouted.

Ed looked down and suddenly noticed a massive glowing transmutation circle on the ground. He was standing barely within its rim; Al, mercifully, was outside. The unfamiliar lines and swirls began to shine even more brightly even as he watched. “There wasn’t anything here a second ago,” he muttered, trying to hide his growing panic. Somehow he’d walked right into a trap...no, that didn’t make any sense.  _Someone_ would have set it off long before, and anyway, there weren’t any alchemists in Liore.

Rose was running toward them and yelling something, probably a polite request to  _tell me just what in the sweet glorious name of Leto is going on_ , but was cut off by the appearance of an enormous, unblinking grey eye on the ground - one Ed thought he would never see again.

“It’s just like...that day...” Al whispered.

Ed nodded, his heart in his throat. Sparks were flying now, enough to make his hair stand on end. It was too late to do anything other than watch. “Hey, um, Al,” he mumbled, “if anything happens to me, just, just don’t forget our promise, and how much I care about you, and, um, try not to pick up any cats, okay?”

“Brother!” Al wailed tearfully (metaphorical tears, of course). The whirlwind of energy emanating from the circle’s epicenter grew and grew until it threatened to knock Ed off his feet.  _I guess this is it,_  he thought, squeezing his eyes shut. A blinding flash of light, and -

 _Whump._ The great eye shut, and the circle disappeared so quickly that it might as well not have existed in the first place. Ed was unceremoniously thrown forward onto a mound of desert sand. There was a short, excruciatingly awkward silence. Then Rose cleared her throat.

“So, uh, was summoning your identical twin part of the life lesson? Because I don’t really see the connection.”

“Whaa?” Ed sputtered, pulling himself upright. Then he noticed the unconscious, semi-naked teenager who had suddenly appeared directly in front of him and nearly choked (as it turned out, there was a lot of sand in his mouth).

Even without seeing the kid’s face, the scruffy blond braid, automail, and (as much as he hated to admit it) below-average stature were enough to identify him as an exact duplicate of Ed. Except, of course, that made  _no sense whatsoever._ “Wait, that’s not - I don’t have any - he doesn’t -  _who is that?_ ”

Al rolled the doppelganger over on his back and recoiled; streaks of blood stained his face, chest, and limbs. “Brother... what – what happened? What is this?”

“He - he might have been injured or something,” said Ed distractedly, still grappling with the sheer impossibility of what had just happened.  _A circle appeared out of thin air…this second Ed shows up from nowhere…and was that really the Gate?_

“He looks a little pale,” Al said, sounding worried. “Maybe we should rest here tonight and get some answers.”

“Let me guess,” muttered Rose. “You want to stay at my place.”

Both brothers immediately gave her their best pleading expressions - a bit of a feat, considering only one of them had a face. “Aw, Rose, I know I got carried away earlier,” said Ed, “but you can’t take it out on this poor guy, right?”

“If he’s anything like  _you_ , I definitely can.”

“Pleeeeeease?” begged Al in his good-little-boy voice. “We don’t have anywhere else to go, and it’s just for one night…”

Rose exhaled loudly and ran her hand through her hair. “Okay, okay. Just so we’re clear, I’m doing this solely out of the goodness of my heart, you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am!” they responded in unison. Al picked up the still-unconscious other Ed (for lack of a better term), and the unlikely trio trekked back into the city. Rose led them through a network of alleys and side roads, explaining that the two of them would probably be attacked if anyone saw them now. “Especially Mr. I’m-An-Alchemist-So-I’m-Way-Better-Than-You,” she added snippily.

As if on cue, the other Ed moaned weakly, causing all three of them to jump. “A-Al?” he whimpered, struggling to sit up. He had Ed’s voice, which shouldn’t really have been a surprise, considering his appearance, but Ed found it frankly unnerving.

Al shot them a nervous glance, unsure what to say. “Uh, it’s me,” he said tentatively. “Just – just hold on a second, we’re almost there.”

“So you’re…okay,” the other Ed sighed with evident relief. “Listen, I… I’m sorry, this was all… my fault…” He promptly went limp again.

 “What was  _that_  all about?” asked Rose as they went on.

“Beats me,” said Ed.

 

At last they arrived at the back door of Rose’s small apartment, which stood atop her equally small flower shop. “Here, put him on my bed,” she said. “I’ll go make some…tea, or whatever it is you like.”

Ed was suddenly struck by a fantastic idea. “Do you have milk?”

“Only the powdered kind. Is that okay?”

“Absolutely,” he replied with a completely straight face. Rose gave him a skeptical look but, mercifully, didn’t question further as she hurried out to the kitchen.

“Brother –”

“Don’t worry, Al, I’ve got it all figured out,” said Ed as he plopped down on Rose’s couch and quite deliberately turned his back on the bed. The feeling of staring at his own face was just too weird to contemplate.

Al stepped closer and examined the blood streaming down the other Ed’s limbs. Then he gave a small, hitched gasp, which meant something was  _really_ important, since normally he didn’t breathe. “Brother, come look at this.”

“I’m a little busy facing the wall here –”

“Just come look!”

Ed rolled his eyes but did as he was told. Al pointed at the sleeping boy’s torso. “See, he’s not actually bleeding. The blood was drawn on.”

 _Come to think of it…_  Ed squinted at the dark red streaks scattered around the chest. The marks were smudged and barely recognizable, but he could definitely see the remnants of a circle there. The blood on his forehead and flesh limbs were probably the same. “It looks sort of like the arrays I used to get your soul back,” he realized. “Not the exact shape, but pretty close.”

“But… why? And why is he here in the first place?”

Ed shrugged and sat back down. “I guess we’ll just have to ask him ourselves.”

They waited for a few minutes in near-total silence, broken only by the other Ed’s slow breaths and the muffled noise of the streets outside. Then, abruptly, the slow breaths morphed into a series of ungainly grunts.

“Nnngh – mmmph –”

Ed and Al rushed over. “Hey, you alright?” Ed asked cautiously.

The other Ed blearily opened his eyes, revealing brilliant golden irises just like Ed’s own. “What’s going on?” he mumbled. “Where am I?”

“We were kind of hoping you could answer that first question,” said Al apologetically. “I’m Alphonse, and this is my brother Edward…”

“…and you are currently in the beautiful oasis town of Liore!” Ed finished. The other Ed’s eyes widened in a horrified expression, which was definitely  _not_ what he’d been going for. “Come on, the place isn’t that bad…”

“Liore?” the other Ed whispered. “That’s, that’s not possible. And –” it looked like he was beginning to grasp the situation “– and who did you just say you were?”

“I think you owe us an explanation first,” Ed said, folding his arms. “ _We_  were just on our way out of here when the Gate randomly opened and you dropped out covered in blood. That’s kind of suspicious, don’t you think?”

The other Ed completely ignored him. “So… this is what Truth meant, huh?” he muttered to himself. “The other side of the Gate.”

“Truth? That bastard again?” Ed stopped short. “Wait. What do you mean, the other side? You’re telling me you came from –”

“What year is it?” the other Ed asked abruptly.

“Um, it’s 1914, last time I checked,” said Al.

The other Ed nodded, his expression inscrutable. “I’m from the future,” he announced.  _That_ was a conversation killer.

While Ed and Al were processing this information, Rose came back in with a glass of milk and some damp towels. “How is he – oh. Hi there.”

“Rose?” said the other Ed, staring at her. “You look kind of pale.”

She gave him a bemused look. “Do I know you? I mean, I know your face, obviously, but…”

“No, sorry,” he corrected himself hastily. “It’s just – you reminded me of someone I know. That’s all.”  _More mysteries, huh_ , Ed thought.

“Uh, alright,” said Rose. “Anyway, here’s something to wake you up.” She handed him the milk, which he gratefully sipped – and then promptly spat all over the front of Al’s armor.

“Brother!” Al cried in exasperation, reaching for a towel. “I mean, uh, whoever you are.”

“Nah, he’s the real deal,” said Ed, grinning. “We know that for sure now.”

“You could have just  _asked_ ,” complained the other Ed as he wiped his mouth.

“But what would be the fun in that?” Ed asked innocently before remembering what the actual purpose of this discussion was. “Okay, back on topic. You’ve told us how you ended up here – sort of – but you haven’t told us why.”

The other Ed merely smiled sadly and gave Al’s still-dripping breastplate an affectionate knock. “What do you think? I did it to get my little brother’s body back.”

 

**AMESTRIS-1**

Alphonse opened his eyes and stared up at an unfamiliar ceiling. He got the strange feeling that he’d been sleeping for a while, but that was ridiculous. He and Ed were far too busy putting the final touches on their theory for human transmutation – Al couldn’t even count the number of nights he’d spent in that dank room at the end of the hall. But it would all be worth it to see their mother’s face again…

“Al!” A female voice came down to him from above.  _Mom?_  No, this voice was different. “Al, are you all right? Can you hear me?”

Al’s vision cleared, and he became slightly more aware of his surroundings; he was in a hospital room, though not in any hospital he recognized. The voice belonged to a pink-haired girl leaning over him, wearing an elaborate (if rather disheveled) ball gown and holding a baby in her arms.

“Yeah, I’m – I’m fine,” he managed at last, sitting up. “Who are you? And where’s Brother?”

The girl drew back, her eyebrows furrowing. “Al, it’s me, Rose Thomas…don’t you know me?”

Al shook his head, bewildered. “Should I?”

The girl’s – Rose’s – expression became somber. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Brother and I were about to bring our mom back…” He trailed off, seeing the horrified look on Rose’s face.

“That was…” She hesitated. “I – I don’t know how to say this, but that was over four years ago.”

The words took a second to register. “Four… four years?” Al said dumbly. He felt a huge black pit opening in his head – he couldn’t exactly describe the feeling, but it was empty and  _wrong_. “No way,” he said. “I’d remember something, then, wouldn’t I? I haven’t gotten any older – ”

“You should have.” Rose wouldn’t meet his gaze. “You were fourteen up until yesterday. Something must have gone wrong… I don’t know. I’m not an alchemist.”

 _What happened?_  Al waited for her to continue, but she didn’t, not for a long while. The pit grew larger.

“My mom,” he blurted out finally. “Is she okay?” Rose looked up suddenly, and then he knew what the answer would be.

“The transmutation failed,” she said quietly. “You lost your body. Ed lost an arm and a leg. The two of you set off to find a way to restore yourselves. That’s what you’ve been doing these past few years.”

Al studied the palms of his hands. They were in perfect order, just like they’d always been. “So then, Brother…”

“Ed’s not here anymore,” said Rose. “To be honest, I don’t know if he’s even alive. He traded everything he had to return your body to you, but something must have gone wrong…”

“…because I lost my memories,” Al finished, the truth dawning upon him. His throat tightened dangerously. He hadn’t cried in a long time, and he really,  _really_  didn’t want to do it now in front of her, even if she was supposed to be his friend. “So I spent all that time without a body?”

“Your soul was attached to a suit of armor, so you couldn’t sleep, eat, or feel anything. Or cry, for that matter,” she added, smiling. Al hastily reached up to wipe away the tears gathering in his eyes, but she gently took his hand before he could. “No, don’t do that. You told me a while back that just being able to cry again was all you ever wanted.”

Al couldn’t imagine living that kind of life – you couldn’t even call it a life; it was more like a cruel half-existence. The warmth of Rose’s fingers on his wrist, the coolness of the thin sheets clinging to his body, even the stale breeze from the ceiling fan… what would it be like to lose all of that? He squeezed his eyes shut, and all the unshed tears reluctantly spilled out.

“I guess I have to thank Brother, if he – when he comes back,” he said, sniffing a little.

“That might not be possible, Al,” Rose murmured, letting go of his hand.  _No, you’re wrong,_ he wanted to shout.  _It’s possible. It has to be!_ But then, what did he know? He was just some country kid who’d gotten mixed up in a future he didn’t even recognize. There was a little part of him that still hoped this was all just a bad dream, and he’d wake up soon and Ed would be there, and Mom too, and they’d all be happy… but it was stupid to wish for impossible things. Even Al knew that. He shoved aside those thoughts and bit his lip until the tears stopped. No matter what Rose said, it wasn’t cool to cry in front of a girl.

Just then the door opened, and Al looked up to see an unfamiliar woman enter; she was wearing a casual black turtleneck, but her stiff posture and neat bun implied some sort of military position.

“I see you’re awake, Alphonse,” she said in a kinder tone than he’d expected. “It’s good to see you in your real body. How are you feeling?”

Al realized that this was someone else he had forgotten. “I’m – I’m fine, but…” He couldn’t bear to meet her gaze. “I don’t know who you are anymore. I’m sorry.”

“He doesn’t remember anything since – the incident a few years ago,” Rose said.

“I see.” The woman’s face grew solemn. It was silent for a moment. Then she bent down next to the bed and lifted up his chin to look him in the eye. “In that case, I suppose I need to reintroduce myself.” She offered Al her hand, which he dutifully shook. “I’m Lieutenant Colonel Riza Hawkeye. During your brother’s time in the military, we spent quite some time working together.”

“The military?” Al stammered, trying to picture the short, whiny, intermittently unwashed brother he knew marching around in a blue uniform.

“He became a State Alchemist,” she explained. “The two of you decided to use military resources to search for the Philosopher’s Stone so you could use it to regain your bodies.”

 _The Philosopher’s Stone…_  “I read a little about that back in Resembool,” Al said tentatively, “but I still don’t know much. Did we find it?”

The Lieutenant sighed. “It’s a long story. I actually came here to check on the colonel – Colonel Mustang, that is, you probably don’t remember him – but I brought you your brother’s belongings.” She placed a worn briefcase on the bed. “You can look through that stuff until I get back. It won’t take long. Then I’ll tell you everything that happened, alright?” After giving him a quick pat on the shoulder, she hurried out again. Whoever this Mustang person was, he must really have needed her help.

Al sat up, still unable to shake the strange empty feeling inside him, and opened the briefcase. Inside was a rather comprehensive collection of black clothing, topped off with a bright red coat.  _Why am I not surprised?_ Al wondered with an inward sigh. Beneath all that there were some small necessities – a toothbrush here, a comb there, some snacks and a deck of cards – as well as a battered travel journal and a silver pocket watch that Al recognized as the emblem of a State Alchemist. Nothing much, really (well, aside from the watch).

“So… he really wore this stuff every day?”

“Naturally.” Rose gave him a small smile. “ _And_  he grew out his hair. It looked fine, once you got used to it, but…”

Al groaned mentally. That sounded exactly like the Ed he knew. When they were kids, long hair had been a chief topic of conversation.

_“Yeah, wouldn’t that be awesome? I bet it’ll even make me look taller!”_

_“But Brother, then you’ll look like a girl. Plus, won’t it get in your face?”_

_“I could braid it. And for the girl thing, if I wear black all the time, I’ll look super cool! No one could ever mistake me for a namby-pamby like Winry in an outfit like that!”_

_“That’s kind of mean. I thought you wanted to marry her.”_

_“Shut up!”_

That hadn’t been too long ago – no, if this really was 1915, then it was already far in the past. Since those days, everything had changed.  _They’d_ changed. Al suddenly felt very lonely. Before, he’d never been away from Ed for more than a day or two. Now…

“Hey, Al?” Rose said, breaking into his reverie. “What do you plan to do next? Once you get out of here, I mean.”

He hadn’t really thought about that yet. “Well, I guess I’ll go back to Resembool and visit Winry and Auntie Pinako.” He half expected Rose to tell him they’d died in a car accident or a house fire or something, but thankfully it seemed that wasn’t the case. “After that – I dunno. Maybe I could find some way to get my memory back?”

Rose shifted her baby from one arm to the other. “Resembool, huh,” she said thoughtfully. “What kind of place is that?”

“It’s really rural, and there’s not really much other than farms, but I think it’s nice. Though a lot of stuff’s probably changed since I was there,” he added dejectedly.

“It sounds very beautiful,” she said. “My home doesn’t really… exist anymore, so I’ve been thinking over some options.”

“Resembool’s definitely the best,” Al declared. “If you want, you could move in with me. I mean, my house is pretty big, and… since Mom and Ed are gone… there’s plenty of space for you and your baby.”

“That – that probably won’t work,” said Rose, without elaborating, “but you’re right, there really isn’t anywhere better than your hometown. If you don’t mind, I could accompany you on your way back and see things for myself.”

“Yeah!” Al cheered. He didn’t know why he was so excited considering he’d only met Rose a few minutes ago, but whatever.

Rose excused herself to nurse her baby; just then, the Lieutenant – he didn’t know whether to call her that or just ‘Hawkeye’ – reappeared, looking a little more strained than previously.

“How’s Colonel Mustard?” he ventured, feeling guilty that he didn’t care more about this once-known gentleman.

“It’s Mustang,” she corrected. “He’s not in good shape, which is probably good for you since he’d have toasted you for messing up his name like that, but he’ll live. I’m sure everything will work out.” The last sentence seemed more directed at herself than to Al. “Anyway, you want answers, right? I don’t know everything, but I can tell you what I do know. Although, well, the story wasn’t always pleasant. Are you sure you want to hear the whole thing right now?”

Al nodded with more firmness than he felt. “If I could live through these past four years, then it shouldn’t be hard just to listen to you talk about it.”  _I hope._

“Okay, then. After the transmutation was complete, Edward lost his leg in the rebound and traded his arm to affix your soul to a suit of armor…”

 

“…and a few seconds after he disappeared, you showed up in the circle, looking just as you do now.” A full hour later, the Lieutenant had finally finished her tale. “Questions?”

Al’s head was spinning and he thought he was on the verge of throwing up. Why he’d agreed to this, he had no idea. “So  _I_ was the Philosopher’s Stone…?”

“Yes.”

 “And the Fuhrer was a homunculus?”

“I was surprised when I found out, too.”

“And my  _mom_  was a homunculus?”

“Not exactly. If you’re confused about it, there’s a homunculus recovering in the room next door. Wrath, I think – ”

“It’s – it’s okay. And Brother never grew  _any_  taller?”

“Maybe an inch or so.”

Al flopped back down onto the pillow. This was all too much to take in – it was like an especially complex fairy tale. Sure, he himself featured in it at times, but this other Al, the Al that rescued chimeras and fought in big battles, seemed no more familiar to him than a character in a novel.

Hawkeye gave him another shoulder pat. “I’m sorry. I know it was hard to hear all that in one go.” She stood up. “Well, it’s getting late. I’d better go.”

“Wait, Lieutenant…”

“Hmm?”

“Rose and I are going back to Resembool. Could you, um…” He twiddled his thumbs nervously. “…maybe loan us some money?”

Hawkeye’s stern expression softened into a smile. “Oh, there’s no need to worry about that. Edward left plenty of money in his research account, and I haven’t officially reported his disappearance yet, so if you show the bankers  _this_  – ” she picked up Ed’s silver watch and dangled it teasingly from her fingers “ – I’m sure they won’t mind taking out a bit.”

Al scratched his head sheepishly. He felt a little bad about it… but not bad enough to refuse. "Okay, I'll do that. Thanks."

“My pleasure.” Hawkeye paused for a moment on her way out and looked back at him. "I hope to see you again, Alphonse. If you ever need anything, just give me a call."

It was quiet again, or would have been if the fan wasn't so creaky. Al lay back and stared out the window. The sun was still shining; that hadn’t changed, at least. There was still a hole inside him somewhere, a void that wouldn't disappear, but perhaps going back to Resembool would make it a little smaller.  _Home is where the heart is, after all._


	2. Tracks

**AMESTRIS-1**

“Hi, I’m Alphonse Elric. I know we were mortal enemies a few days ago, but I’m over all that now. Nice to meet you.”

It was morning, and Al and Rose were sitting on a train bound for Resembool. Rose was still wearing the dress from yesterday (it was alarmingly battered by now, but Al wasn’t going to tell her that) and cradling her baby. Al, meanwhile, had been forced to put on the clothes he’d found in Ed’s briefcase. He felt like he was drowning in an ocean of oversized black fabric, and probably looked like it too, judging by the looks he was getting.

Oh, and there was someone else here too.

Wrath, self-proclaimed greatest of the homunculi (this was technically fact, as the others were all presumed dead) had been thrust on them by the hospital staff. “You brought him here, ma’am,” the doctor had said earlier, “so I’m afraid you’ll have to take him too.” Rose had grudgingly agreed, and now here they were. Unfortunately, as Al discovered, it was rather difficult to start a conversation with someone who had been trying to kill him not too long ago.

Wrath was staring stubbornly out the window, his chin propped in his one remaining hand. “Nice to meet you, too,” he replied in a voice that quite clearly said _If I had two legs right now, you’d be deader than Dante._

“S- so, what do you like to do for fun?”

“Throttle annoying kids,” said Wrath without missing a beat. Al gulped. He’d never _heard_ of any one-armed, one-legged child murderers, but still… maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

“Just give it up, Al,” Rose advised. “We’ve still got half an hour left. Why don’t you take a nap?”

He _was_ awfully tired; they’d gotten up at five to catch this train and he hadn’t slept well last night – bad dreams, though he couldn’t remember them now. Rolling up the sleeves of Ed’s red coat for the thousandth time, he slid down in his seat and closed his eyes.

The wheels clattered on the track noisily, but the rhythm was almost soothing in its repetition. Al’s mind slipped through the blackness that lay inside him, and –

_– trains, sunlight, Ed, Dublith –_

_“ – Brother, are you sure it’ll work?”_

_“I hope so –”_

_– something familiar there, but it’s gone now –_

_– meadows, clouds, glinting metal –_

The train hit a bump, and Al awoke with a start. Not much time had passed, it seemed; Rose and Wrath were both still sitting just as they had been, except Rose and the baby were asleep now too. He rubbed his forehead, wondering what he’d been dreaming about.

“You up?”

Al jumped, then realized Wrath was talking to him. Actually talking to him.

“Um – yeah.”

“Were you actually sleeping? ‘Cause you were squirming around and mumbling to yourself. Pretty sure that’s not normal.”

Al felt vaguely embarrassed at the thought of Wrath watching him sleep. “I just had a nightmare, that’s all.” He couldn’t remember any of it now, except that his brother had been in it, and there was a train, and – ugh, this was just like last night.

“Whatever you say,” said Wrath, rolling his bizarrely purple eyes. “Dunno why you’re so jumpy. You know I’m not _actually_ going to kill you, right?”

“I _don’t_ know that, actually,” said Al, more defensively than he’d intended.

Wrath regarded him for a second, looking strangely deflated. “Good point,” he said finally. Then he turned his gaze to the window again. “Oh – this is the place, right? Reezemburg or whatever?” The train slowed to a stop. Al looked outside; the view was nothing but green hills and blue sky, as it had been for the past hour, but _these_ shades of green and blue were special. “We’re here!” he whooped, jumping up and grabbing Ed’s briefcase. “Come on, Rose, let’s go!”

Rose yawned and stretched. “Alright, keep it down. I have a baby, you know.” She patted down the wrinkled folds of her dress, and wheeled Wrath down the aisle. Once they were off the train, all Al had to do was find out how to get from the station to the Rockbells’ place. That turned out to be harder than it sounded.

After three wrong turns, five requests for directions, four instances of “Oh my God, is that you, Al?”, and one overturned wheelchair (which somehow led to a messy three-way altercation in a haystack), Al finally spotted the old house on the top of a hill. It looked just as it had two days ago – no, four _years_ ago – right down to the peeling paint on the east side. He felt strangely relieved. Maybe, just maybe, things hadn’t changed so much after all.

They came up to the porch. Al knocked tentatively. “Auntie? Winry? Are you home?”

“It’s too early,” came a groaning voice from indoors. The door was thrown wide open, almost knocking the wheelchair over again, to reveal a very unkempt-looking teenage girl. This was, in fact, Winry. “Can’t you learn to take care of your automa –” She stopped and blinked several times. “Al?”

“Hi,” said Al lamely.

Winry gasped and threw her arms around him. “You got your body back! That’s amazing!”

“Uh, actually I –”

“Come on in, you and your… friends. Where’s Ed, by the way? And why are you wearing his outfit?”

Al stepped over the threshold, feeling exhausted at the mere thought of explaining the whole thing over again. “Well, he kind of traded his whole life to get my body back,” he said in a rush, tossing the briefcase onto the couch, “but it didn’t work out because I lost like four years of my memories and Lieutenant Colonel Hawkeye had to tell me my own life story and then I met Rose, except we already knew each other, and this is Wrath, who you probably know because you’re glaring at him like that, and I’m wearing Brother’s clothes because I don’t have anything else, and I don’t know where he is but he’s probably alive. I think. Hopefully.” He took a deep breath and found that his hands were trembling.

“You… you don’t remember being in the armor? And Ed’s gone?” Winry’s voice shook a little. “Idiots. I knew something like this would happen.” Then she sighed and hustled the trio into the kitchen. “Granny!” she yelled in the general direction of the upstairs bedroom. “Wake up, we’ve got guests!”

 

Al slurped his porridge and took the opportunity to peer at Winry from over the rim of the bowl. The Winry he remembered was a chubby girl with a messy ponytail and red cheeks, prancing through the fields in flower-print dresses and periodically threatening to kiss him. Against all logic, he’d expected to see that girl again today. But _this_ Winry was tall and slim and… pretty, though he stopped himself before his brain could go too far in _that_ direction. After all, he was four years younger than her now.

A low growling sound brought him back to reality. At first he thought it was Den, but the voice was… wait, was that _Winry_?

“I’m not giving _you_ any of my time,” she was saying, brandishing a spatula at their resident invalid. “Not after you tried to _rip Ed to pieces_!”

“I didn’t _ask_ for your time, lady!” Wrath replied, grinding his teeth so loudly that Al was surprised there weren’t sparks.

“You don’t even need food, why are you here – ”

“’Cause I wanna be!”

“I don’t care if you have one leg or whatever, you’re a threat and I want you out of here –”

Al looked around. Rose had retreated to the safety of the living room, while Pinako was puffing away at her pipe with evident enjoyment. “Um, guys, can you stop fighting?”

“ _Stop_ fighting?” Winry gave him an incredulous look. “You were the one who said he was a homunculus, he stole what belonged to Ed, and you were going to take it back, right?”

“That was the other Al. I mean… you know what I mean. It’s not a big deal anymore, really.”

Wrath scowled. “Yeah, alright. _Sorry_ I just wanted to live a normal life like you guys – ”

“That doesn’t even _begin_ to excuse –”

“Stop!” Al yelled as loudly as he could. The two of them whipped around to glower at him. “Please, Winry,” he said in a lower voice, “Wrath isn’t gonna stick around here for long, so you can put up with him for a few days, can’t you?”

Winry sniffed and turned her back. “Fine. Granny, can you keep an eye on him? Al and I want to have some bonding time. Don’t we, Al?”

“Oh, um… yes?” The lackluster answer seemed to be enough. Winry grabbed him by the arm and dragged him out to the front lawn before anyone could say anything. Then she let out a huge breath and lay down on the grass, all her previous energy dissipating like so many leaves in the wind. Al sat down next to her, wondering what this was about.

Nothing happened for a while. The grass shifted in the breeze, and he felt it tickling his hands. Out here on the hill, you could see for miles around – one farm after another, neat green rectangles stretching back to infinity, just like always. Here, Al could pretend for a moment that he was still ten, that Winry was still ten, that Ed was here and everything was going to be fine.

“You know,” said Winry after a while, “I really am glad you got your body back.” She turned on her side and smiled at him. She was wearing makeup. Just a little, but it startled him. When had that happened?

“It was all you ever talked about,” she continued. “No, that’s wrong – you didn’t talk about it much, because it made Ed sad, but I knew you _thought_ about it.”

“What was I like?” asked Al. “Was I… like I am right now?”

Winry thought about it. “A lot quieter. You were more levelheaded than Ed, more mature. Definitely a lot nicer. And you were a very good alchemist.”

This Al sounded like some sort of hero, just like the one Hawkeye had described. Al found it hard to believe that _he_ was the one they was talking about. Could he be this person again? Would he ever get the chance?

He caught a glimpse of a dark ashy blur on a hill behind them, like a black smudge tainting the beautiful landscape, and remembered something he’d wanted to ask her. “Winry…”

“Yeah?”

“My house – that’s where it was, right?” He pointed. “I thought I passed it on the way here, but the whole place was gone. That – that can’t be right, can it?”

Winry’s face fell. “You and Ed burned it down the day you left Resembool. To show that there was no going back.”

_I… I destroyed it myself. My only home._ He felt another shock wave running through him into the empty pit. “We wouldn’t do that. There’s no way,” he said, almost in a whimper. “That house is all I have left now!” Once he said it, he realized just how true it was. He’d lost his parents, his memories, his house, even his own brother. He felt lonely and stupid and sad, and then, worst of all, he started to cry again. Not like yesterday, though – it was real crying now, the kind of sobbing he hadn’t done since his mom’s funeral.

“I’m sorry, Al. I miss Ed too.” Winry wrapped her arms around him. She was so much bigger than him now that her hug was enough to completely envelop him. “But you haven’t lost everything. You still have all of Ed’s stuff – I mean, you’re even wearing it right now. You have me and Granny. And as long as you remember your past, it’s never gone.”

Al started to say something about how he _didn’t_ remember his past, not really, but she cut him off. “It doesn’t matter what memories you lost – you have to move forward. That’s what you and Ed always used to say. _That’s_ why you burned down your house. If he was here, he’d probably tell you the same thing.”

Winry pulled back and dug a photograph out of her pocket. “I picked this off the board a few minutes ago. Thought you might like to keep it.” Al looked down at the picture; its colors were still as vibrant and joyous as the scene it depicted. There was Ed, wearing a cocky grin, his automail limbs glinting in the sunlight. His face was still young, and his braid nothing more than a few short strands caught in the breeze, but already his face had a different edge to it that Al was sure hadn’t been there before. He was sitting atop a large, intimidating suit of armor, which Al came to realize was himself.

“Was that really me?” _Wow. No wonder I wanted my body back so badly._

“Yep.” Winry smiled and looked skyward, as if recalling something far away. “It was Ed’s second or third time walking outside, I think, and we went out for a picnic.” She paused. “I know you can’t tell, but… you were having a good time, too. It was a fun day.”

The helmet in the photo was turned slightly upwards, facing Ed. Its facial expression (if it could even be said to have an expression) was entirely stoic. Al would just have to take her word for it. “Thanks, Winry,” he said.

Winry sat up and stretched. “So what are you gonna do now? Are you going to stay here?”

Al hesitated. “Well… I don’t know, but I can’t just sit still while Brother and my memories are still out there. That wouldn’t really be ‘moving forward’, right?”

“You’re starting to get it,” she said, laughing. “But unless you’re planning to become a State Alchemist, there aren’t many people out there who can help with something like that.”

“Yeah…” Al thought for a moment. Then something from his dream on the train flashed in his mind again, just a single word – _Dublith_. “Teacher!” he blurted out.

“Huh?”

“My old alchemy teacher,” he clarified. “She knows a lot about these things. I bet she’ll have some answers.”

“Oh, the lady with the dreadlocks? I’ve met her,” said Winry. “Izumi Curtis, right?” Al nodded. “I’ll ask her to drop by tomorrow. She probably wants to see how you’re doing anyway.”

Winry stood up and started to head back inside, where she promptly started yelling at Wrath for putting his foot up on the table. (Ed had done that all the time, but that was beside the point.) Al stayed a moment and gave the photograph one last look. It was nothing more than a single snapshot, a picture of happiness frozen in time, but behind it there was a whole story. In that moment, Al knew more than anything that he wanted his brother and all those stories, all those days he’d forgotten, back where they belonged. And if there was one talent Al and Ed had in common (besides scarily large appetites), it was getting what they wanted.

_Wherever you are, Brother, I’ll find you!_

 

**AMESTRIS-2**

Far away, another group of three was riding on a train – this time, to Central.

“So what are your plans for the next few days?” asked the other Ed, adjusting his (horrifically ugly) brown wig.

Ed shrugged morosely. “After giving Colonel Bastard the report, Al and I were going to do some more research on the Philosopher’s Stone… after what you said, though, that’s pretty much a dead end.” Last night at Rose’s place, the other Ed had told them all about the discoveries he’d made in his world, including what the Stone was truly made of. Ed still couldn’t quite believe the speed at which his dreams had been snatched away.

“Oh, well,” said Al in an effort to stay positive. “We’re not totally out of leads, right?” He gestured to the other Ed. “Maybe something from his side of the Gate could help us.”

“Not sure about that,” the other Ed replied. “It was hard just getting here in the first place. The Gate’s pretty much impossible to cross.”

Ed wouldn’t give up just yet. “No, hold on a second. Al and I both saw the Gate on… that day. And part of Al is still stuck there. If he managed to reach his body somehow, we might be able to, I dunno, bring the two Als closer together.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” said Al politely. “Actually, it reminds me of that ‘Elric telepathy’ thing you were talking about a while back – ”

“That was a legitimate theory!” Ed cried. “And this isn’t like that. You get pulled towards your body sometimes, don’t you?”

“Well, yeah, but only for a second. I can’t exactly control it, either.”

The other Ed rubbed his chin. “It’s worth a shot,” he said. “If Al could do it, you might figure out how to get your bodies back, and I’d find out if my brother’s okay.”

“See?” Ed folded his arms triumphantly. “ _He_ agrees with me.”

“Of course he would,” Al said in a very patient tone, “since he _is_ you.” Oh. Right.

“Wait, wait,” said the other Ed. “I don’t know much about this Gate stuff and I don’t think you do either. We’ll need help. Preferrably from a good alchemist with experience on the Gate.”

They all thought for a second. “I don’t know anyone else who’s done human transmutation,” Ed admitted. “I guess we could talk to our teacher.” The thought made him cringe a little, but there were more important things to worry about.

“That’s it!” The other Ed’s eyes lit up, and Ed was reminded of how creepy it was to look into one’s own eyes in the process of lighting up. “She did human transmutation – at least she did where I came from. Why don’t we go to Dublith after this and ask her?”

“Perfect!”

Al still seemed skeptical. “Are you sure it’ll work? My body’s been in the Gate for a long time, but I’ve never felt a connection to the other side.”

“I hope so,” said Ed. “It can’t hurt to try.”

“If you sa…” He trailed off. They waited for a few seconds. “You were saying?” the other Ed prompted.

The armor jumped visibly. “Oh! Yeah, sorry. I just… I got a weird feeling for a second. Never mind.”

 

A few hours later, Ed strutted into Mustang’s outer office in HQ. “Yo, boss,” said Havoc without looking up from his piles of paperwork.

“Wha – how did you know it was me?” Ed sputtered.

“Everyone else comes in normally,” said Fuery, pointing behind Ed to the door, which had been flung open violently as usual. “See, there’s even a dent in the wall from you doing that every time.”

Ed peered at the flaking plaster. Yes, there was definitely a dent there. “Oops. Sorry. Well, I won’t be here for long today. I’m just gonna give my report and leave.”

“You know that always takes longer than you think,” Falman commented as he tapped away on his typewriter. “Remember last month? You said it was going to take five minutes, but then the colonel made a height joke and we had to physically pull you out of the room an hour later so the nurses could treat your burns –”

Ed really didn’t want to be reminded of that today. “This time, it’s _actually_ going to take five minutes. I promise.” He took a deep breath, carefully pulled open the inner door (there was an even larger dent here, which he pretended not to notice) and casually strolled inside.

“Fullmetal. How pleasant to see you.” That _voice._ Ugh, he was so full of himself.

Ed tossed his report on Mustang’s desk. “Can I go?”

Mustang skimmed through the papers. “Your handwriting’s much too sloppy. And you know I expect at least three pages.”

“I was kind of in a hurry last night – ”

“That’s the fifth time you’ve made that excuse. You can’t expect me to keep believing it.” Okay, he had a point there. “I’m afraid you’re just going to have to deliver it orally.”

 “Fine. So we went to Liore and checked out that Cornello guy, but the Stone turned out to be a fake so it was all pointless. The end.” He conveniently left out the whole thing with the Gate and his identical twin, which made the story a lot shorter. Anyway, the other Ed had made some ambiguous warnings about the government – better to stay quiet just in case.

“Oh? According to what I heard, you also overthrew the entire local regime. Which was, by the way, _not_ in my instructions.”

“He was planning to start a revolt! What could I do?” To be perfectly honest, Ed was starting to regret that a little. The other Ed had been vague on the subject of his world’s Liore (as with nearly everything else, damn him), but Ed got the feeling that whatever had happened there, it wasn’t anything good. He didn’t want to believe that he’d accidentally doomed the town, but…

“Are you listening?” said Mustang in exasperation.

“Huh, what?”

“See, this is why we can’t have a good work relationship. _As I was saying_ , you seem to have a habit of causing trouble where it’s not needed.”

“Whatever,” grumbled Ed. “If you already know so much about what I was doing in Liore, what’s the point of even making me do reports?”

“Sadly, they’re required by the state,” said Mustang, steepling his fingers into some sort of… chin tent, or something. “Now, as much as I’d like to continue this enlightening conversation, I have a few forms due at eleven.” He patted a knee-high stack of paper on the corner of his desk. Ed looked at the clock. It was 10:56. Typical Mustang.

“Okay, great. Can I go now? Al and I kind of have to be somewhere –”

“What are you talking about? I haven’t given you your next assignment yet.”

Ed’s heart sank. Guess Teacher would have to wait a bit.

Mustang extracted a file from his drawer. “We’ve received complaints from a town to the south. Apparently there was a large disturbance last night on a nearby mountain. A giant snake, some are saying. No casualties, but there was a request for a State Alchemist to investigate.”

“And… what town is this?”

“It’s called Dublith, I believe – ”

“Yes!” Ed pumped his fist. “Thanks, I’ll go check it out for you!” He grabbed the file from Mustang’s hands and barreled out the door before the colonel could make a parting shot at his height.

“Edward, you should really be more careful with that doorknob,” sighed Hawkeye as he reemerged. He’d completely forgotten about the dent.

“Sorry, Lieutenant.” Ed guiltily brushed loose crumbs of plaster off the wall. “I’m gonna be on my way now. Al and I are heading to Dublith. Later, everyone!”

“Uh – bye –” someone said, but by then he was already halfway down the stairs.

Al and the other Ed were loitering inconspicuously outside the gate. “How’d it go?” asked Al.

“Pretty good. The colonel hit me with another assignment, but it’s in Dublith too, so we can head out right away.”

“Actually, Brother, the next train to Dublith doesn’t leave till this afternoon.”

“What? How do you know that?”

“If you’d been paying attention when we got off here, you would have known too.” The smug tone in Al’s voice was unmistakable.

“And people say _I’m_ the annoying brother.” Ed rubbed his forehead grumpily. “Okay, forget that, then. Let’s go get lunch or something. How about that sandwich shop on Ninth and Parker?”

Al groaned. “Please, no. The ceiling there is way too low. I can’t even count the number of times I’ve had to fix the flowerpot hanging from the doorway.”

“Okay, um, the soup place by the pharmacy?”

“We got banned for life last time for ‘causing a ruckus’ –”

“The lady called me short! I can’t be expected to just sit there and _take_ it, can I?”

The other Ed waved his hands. “Guys, guys. I know the best restaurant ever. It’s a little out of the way, but the food’s fantastic. My brother and I used to go there every time we were in Central.”

Ed and Al looked at each other. “Lead the way.”

 

“This doesn’t look like the best restaurant ever,” Al commented fifteen minutes later. “Or a restaurant at all.” They were standing in front of a boarded-up building that clearly had seen better days… probably about four hundred years ago.

“I’m positive this was the place,” mumbled the other Ed.

 “I guess it just doesn’t exist in our world.” Ed shrugged. “Sorry, man.”

Al twiddled his thumbs nervously and turned in a circle, surveying the empty streets. “Let’s go back. This area doesn’t look very safe.”

“Calm down,” Ed replied (more loudly than he should have, but he was trying to cover up the complaints of his stomach). “We’re in the heart of the country. What could possibly happen?”

At that _exact_ moment, they heard rocks clattering from above. A shadow glared at them from the rooftop… a shadow that happened to have a large X-shaped scar on his forehead. “ _Scar?!”_ the other Ed cried. In broad daylight, no less.

All three of them took off. “It’s all because you said that, Brother,” Al moaned as they sped back down the deserted road. “It must be your curse or something – what’s wrong? Why are you running so slow?”

“I’m starving, that’s why,” Ed gasped. “Hasn’t this guy killed, like, five State Alchemists already? Hey, other Ed, how are we supposed to beat him?”

“Well, back in my world this doctor guy threw a Philosopher’s Stone at him, but that probably won’t happen this time…”

A crackle of electricity passed through the building on their left, sending rubble over their heads. Somehow they managed to outrun the wave, but at this point Ed really needed a few seconds to breathe. He dropped down and transmuted a barrier from the road. “That ought to put him in place for a while.”

“He can deconstruct anything with that arm of his, didn’t I tell you that last night?” yelled the other Ed. “Walls aren’t going to stop him!” Indeed, with another flash of light the barrier collapsed in an opaque cloud of dust, making them cough. So much for a break. “Great, now you’ve done it. He’s probably on top of us by now – ”

An arm, filled so tightly with energy that Ed could practically feel it, suddenly came down upon them from above. “ _MOVE, IDIOTS!”_ Al shrieked at the top of his (metaphorical) lungs, aiming a blind kick at the man’s ankles. Despite the complete lack of subterfuge available to a seven-foot-tall suit of armor, the move worked. Scar tripped in the most undignified way possible and landed hard on the cobbles.

The two Eds scrambled to their feet as the dust cleared. “Scar, wait!” said the other Ed. “We’re not here to fight you. Please, can you hear us out for a moment?”

“I kind of thought we _were_ here to fight him – ”

“Shh!”

Scar stood unsteadily and flexed his right arm. Now that the air was clear, Ed could see the strange black markings on it – like a transmutation circle, except… not. “Stay out of the way and I won’t hurt you or the armored man,” he growled. “I’m only here for the Fullmetal Alchemist.”

“Guess I’m outta luck, then, because…” said the other Ed. _He’s really gonna do it,_ Ed realized, unsure whether to feel admiring or horrified. _He’s actually going to dramatically rip his wig off in front of a serial killer –_

The other Ed dramatically ripped his wig off in front of the serial killer. “ _I’m_ the Fullmetal Alchemist, too,” he declared, “and you _are_ going to listen to me.”

Ed hadn’t considered Scar the type to stand with his jaw hanging open, but evidently he’d been wrong. “I know about your brother,” the other Ed continued triumphantly (where was that dramatic soundtrack when you needed it?). “And about Ishbal, and Kimblee, and what your arm really is…”

“Would’ve been nice if you’d told _us_ about all that last night,” Ed muttered. Al made a noise of agreement.

Scar seemed frozen in place, his fingers trembling. “There’s no way you could know about that – ”

“It’s kind of hard to explain, but I sort of came from the future.” The other Ed paused, his tone growing more serious. “And over there, you turned out to be a pretty cool guy. You even saved Al’s life once. I’m sure you’re better than this.”

Scar turned his back and said nothing for a long moment. They stood there, tense, ready for him to come after them again, but instead he made a low noise in his throat, almost a sob, and fled in the opposite direction. It was over.

Al breathed a sigh of relief as they began to head back to the more populated regions of the city. “That was quick. And kind of random. Good job there, Brother.”

“Thanks,” said Ed, “but it was really all the other guy.”

“Um, I know. I was talking to him.” Al shook his head. “This is just way too confusing. Maybe I should call you Brother and him Bigger Brother… you know, since he’s taller than you by a little bit…”

It was all Ed could do to not beat up his sweet little brother right then and there. “Al, I swear you’re the most annoying person on the planet.” He turned to the other Ed, who was trailing behind them and gazing pensively at the floor. “Hey, you okay? Al’s right, that _was_ a good speech. I should’ve taken notes.”

“What? Oh, thanks. It’s just – I feel like I messed him up more than I needed to. I said some personal things, and people don’t really change their ways that fast anyway, so it was pointless.” The words spilled out in a confused jumble, and Ed wondered if perhaps there wasn’t more to the story.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it,” he said encouragingly, clapping the other Ed on the back. “If it wasn’t for you, I’d probably be a puddle of guts on the floor by now. Now put that wig back on and we’re getting lunch. At the sandwich shop – _no complaints_ , Al, you hear?”

“Fine. But you’re fixing the flowerpot this time.”


	3. Moving Forward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to make things clear, the Amestris-2 section of this chapter is narrated by 03!Ed. I apologize for the confusion - it's somewhat inevitable when you have two characters with the same name, appearance and general personality.

**AMESTRIS-1**

That afternoon, Al headed out to do some clothes shopping. This was of his own free will, which was a first; then again, he reasoned, any rational person would be desperate to get out of Ed’s multilayered black ensemble after spending a whole morning wearing it. He still didn’t know how his brother had managed for all those years.

Speaking of _managing_ , that was growing harder by the second. The sunshine, which had been so warm and comforting earlier, felt more like an oppressive hand now. Well, if that hand happened to be really, really hot. (Al had never been good with metaphors.) Even with the red coat off his back, Ed’s absurdly large jacket was still suffocating him, and he wasn’t interested in taking _that_ off since the only thing underneath it was a muscle tank, and he, well… didn’t have muscles.

Al sighed and wiped his brow as he rounded the bend. At least he hadn’t run into anyone so far. He was getting tired of having to come up with a story for one neighbor after another. “Well, you see, my brother messed up a transmutation circle and it, uh, it made me look younger. Yes, I feel fine. Where is he? Oh, right now he’s… traveling. Yeah.” It was frankly amazing that everyone had bought it so far.

He saw the town square not far off – a handful of stout little buildings surrounding a small fountain and some trees, not very different from what it had been – and trudged down the hill. Only a week ago ( _four years ago_ , he reminded himself) he and Ed had raced each other there, tripping over their feet halfway down where the slope steepened and then giving up altogether; they’d rolled the rest of the way, laughing about nothing. Al had gotten grass in his hair and he’d itched all over afterwards, but it had been worth it to take a few minutes’ break from their research. _If only we could have taken a break forever_ , Al thought.

He reached the bottom of the hill, still caught up in his loneliness, and used the red coat to mop up his sweat. (Sorry, Ed.) The store where he’d bought his clothes in the past was still there, occupying a cozy spot in the shade of a tall oak. Amazingly enough, the owner, a tiny, decrepit-looking woman who was possibly older than the planet itself, was also still there. “’Ello, little boy,” she said as Al walked in. “What can I do for you today?”

“Just looking for some clothes,” Al replied politely, inspecting the racks. It didn’t take long to pick out some trousers, a few shirts, and a beige jacket. Not the most thrilling choices, but he had never been his brother anyway. “Um, do you have this shirt in a smaller size?”

“Hm? Oh, yes, it’s in the back. Give me a moment.” The old woman turned and began to hobble towards the storeroom… slowly. Al sank into a sitting position next to a pile of socks in the corner. He’d hoped the store would have installed a fan after all these years, but obviously that was asking for too much. The black jacket was clinging limply to his skin, and he felt exhausted, but even in this state he knew it was probably a bad idea to doze off here. Just a little bit longer, come on –

_– shadows falling on a small room –_

_– three brothers –_

_– three?_

_“ – you two are both broke, so I win.”_

Al’s head jerked upward. He looked around, but the store was empty except for the old woman, who was still rummaging through the boxes in the back. Strange – he hadn’t fallen asleep at all, he was sure of it. Maybe he’d just spent too much time in the sun, and now he was hearing things. He doubted it, though; that… pit, or whatever it was, still lurked inside him somewhere.

“Here you go, young’un,” said the old woman, breaking into his thoughts. She handed him the shirt he’d been looking for. “Are you all through?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Al said, digging through his pockets. Two cenz short. Hopefully she wouldn’t notice.

 

“Back already?” said Winry when he returned, looking up from her work table. “The outfit looks nice. Fits your personality.” Al nodded tiredly and tossed the sweaty mess that had once been Ed’s clothes into the laundry basket.

“I called your teacher,” she continued, “but she won’t be here until the end of the week. You’ll just have to find something to occupy your time until then.”

“Okay.” That wasn’t too bad. Al needed to get into shape anyway, since Izumi would probably beat him up as soon as she got off the train. He tried not to think about that. “Hey, um, what are you doing right now, Winry?”

“Nothing much,” she replied tersely, getting out her toolbox. “I’ve got a job coming up, so I’m preparing the stuff.”

“A job? On who?”

Winry grimaced. “Our pasty little homunculus friend, of course. Who else?”

“Wait, you mean Wrath?” Al scratched his head. “I didn’t know homunculi could get automail.”

“Apparently he’ll be totally healed up from the operation in three days,” Winry said with a snort. “If you want to talk to him, he’s outside somewhere with Rose.” She turned her back to him. Al got the feeling she didn’t want him around right now, though he hadn’t the slightest clue why. He tiptoed out the door and went around to the side of the house, where he found Wrath slouched in his wheelchair, staring into space. Rose was sitting silently next to him. Al realized he wasn’t quite in the mood for small talk, but it was too late to turn back.

“Hi, Al,” Rose greeted him as he approached.

“What do you want?” Wrath grumbled. “Oh, wait, you’re here to question me about automail, right?”

“No!” Al said quickly. “Except, um, yes.”

The boy lazily flipped a strand of black hair over his ear. “There’s not much to say. I just want to get out of here, and your girlfriend’s grandma suggested it – ”

“She’s not my girlfriend!”

“– whatever, your _lady friend_ ’s grandma then.” Wrath’s expression turned stony. “Dunno how much you remember, but… I don’t plan on being here when that woman shows up.”

Al recalled Hawkeye telling him that his teacher’s human transmutation had created Wrath. Maybe. To be perfectly honest, the details were starting to blur together. “Won’t it hurt to have the surgery done that fast, though?”

“Nah, I’m a homunculus. If your lousy brother could do it, so can I.”

“That’s not very nice,” Rose chided. “Anyway, Al, I guess this means you’ll be leaving soon too.”

“Yeah.” Al sat down against the wall and drew up his knees. Here in the shade, it wasn’t as hot, and one could get a great view. The rolling green wave stretched out before him towards the horizon, where they faded into a line of mountains marching off into the distance. Up above, a few little clouds trundled idly through the sky. (Not enough to block out the sun, unfortunately.)

“Resembool really is a great place,” said Rose, stretching. “I hate to say it, but it looks much better than my hometown. And the temperature is nice, too.” Al wondered what sort of place Liore was if _this_ temperature counted as nice. “Are you really planning on leaving?”

He remembered what Winry had told him that morning. “I have to move forward, if I want to find my brother again and get back what I lost.”

“Move forward, huh?” Rose smiled. “Sounds like what Ed told me that day. What _you_ told me.”

She was remembering something, Al realized, something he himself couldn’t. He felt an irrational sort of jealousy.

“You can’t move on, though,” said Wrath suddenly, his eyes still fixed on the horizon. “If you’re just out to find your memories, that’s not moving forward. That’s looking behind.”

Al stopped to consider that statement. It was true that everything he wanted was a part of his past, but… “Still, if you don’t look back every now and then, you can’t tell where you’re going. Paths have a beginning and an end, don’t they? You need both.”

“If you want to put it that way, sure.” Wrath was still steadfastly avoiding his gaze. “But it’s not that easy to get what you want.”

“Plenty of people don’t,” Rose agreed. “I’m not trying to crush your dreams, Al, but maybe it’s not possible to bring back those times.”

 _Of course it’s possible. Anything’s possible!_ He forced down those words and settled for something else. “Maybe, but I have to try. Even if it means going backwards.” He squinted at the hill where his house had once been. A depressing sight, but it was a reminder too. “That’s what Brother and I _do_. I mean, that’s what we do according to what Winry said. I don’t actually know.” That last part ruined the moment, kind of, but speeches, like metaphors, weren’t really his strong point anyway.

Wrath yawned. “I think I’m done with deep conversations for now. Especially with someone who was out for my blood a week ago.”

“Oh… right. Sorry.”

“ _You_ haven’t done anything, stupid. Come back and apologize when you get your memories. I’ll be happy to beat you up then.” Wrath settled back in his wheelchair and closed his eyes. Al knew homunculi didn’t sleep, but he went along with it. It was probably the best he was ever going to get out of this kid. “Hey, Rose,” he asked, “do you want to go back in?”

“You go on ahead,” she said, waving a hand. “I’m relaxing.” Al made a face (she really _was_ crazy to want to relax in this heat) and left the two of them alone. He walked back up to the front porch, the door still ajar as he’d left it, and was about to push it open when he heard a noise from within. _Winry?_

Al peeked through the open door. It was dark inside – all the curtains had been drawn up tight – and he took a few moments to find Winry, still sitting at the table, hunched over something gleaming in her palm. It was Ed’s silver watch. As he stood there in confusion, Winry pulled out her tools and went to work on it. She was muttering to herself, twisting the watch’s lid with a vengeance, and Al wondered if he should say something. Before he could, there was a faint popping sound, and the watch opened. At this, Winry bent over even further, obscuring what was inside from Al’s view, and then, to his surprise, started to cry softly. She’d seemed strong earlier, talking with him as they lay on the grass under the morning sun, but Al had forgotten, somehow, that she had feelings too.

“Ed, you idiot,” he heard her murmur through her tears. “You promised me…you promised him… and… and you’re gone… stupid idiot!” She slammed the watch back down on the table. Al’s fingers flinched involuntarily, and the door creaked. Winry looked up, her eyes puffy, and saw him.

“Al, were you…”

“I – I didn’t see much,” he said hastily. “I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have, but – ”

Winry laid her tools down and dragged a hand over her face. “It’s no big deal,” she said, closing the watch firmly. “Just going through his things.” Al was about to ask what was in the watch, but he thought better of it. Perhaps it was better if he didn’t know for now.

There was a heavy silence, punctuated by quiet sniffles. Al had no idea what to say. The last time Winry had cried in his memory was when a bully had stolen her pocket money back when they were nine. Then, he had offered her a tissue and walked her home while Ed went to go beat up the offending boy; now, everything was different. This Winry was almost an adult now, not a little girl, and there was no one to beat up. What were you supposed to say when grownups cried?

“I’m sorry,” Winry said finally with a rueful laugh. “I know this is dumb, crying about a watch.”

“It’s not!” Al blurted out, more vehemently than he’d intended. “I mean, I don’t think that’s dumb. The watch is important, right? It’s… it’s like a memory, sort of. A reminder. Like that picture you gave me.” _Like my house._

Winry gave the silver watch a long look. “I guess you’re right,” she said, then hesitated. “Not the watch, though, not really. The thing inside is the real memory.” Al’s curiosity was burning at a peak level, but he clamped it down. “Ed never told you about it, even after all these years. If – when he comes back, ask him about it then, okay?”

She exhaled and then grinned suddenly. “It’s getting late. Tell everyone to come in for dinner. I made apple pie – your favorite, right?”

“Yay!” Al followed her into the kitchen, shooting one last glance at the watch, still lying on the corner of the table. Even after being brutally tampered with, it shone as flawlessly as ever it had. Al tried to put it out of his mind for the time being. Izumi was coming, and he’d have to brush up on his alchemy before she showed up.

After dessert, of course.

 

**AMESTRIS-2**

“What do you mean, she’s not here?!”

Mason shrugged helplessly. “Sorry, man. Izumi and Sig are out touring the countryside. They told me they’d be back by Saturday. Probably. I’m just here to man the store.”

Second Ed – the one native to this universe, that is – groaned loudly. “Thanks anyway,” Al added hurriedly. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“Same here,” said Mason, giving him a fist bump. “Are you guys just here to visit or what?”

“Nah, we’re also checking out the disturbance from last night,” said second Ed. “A giant serpent or something.”

“Oh, that?” Mason exhaled. “It was causing a huge ruckus earlier up on Seluna. Didn’t see it myself, but the rumble knocked out half my best plates. Seems like it’s calmed down for now, though.” He paused. “Man, it sure has been a while. I can’t believe how much you guys have grown. Especially you, Al. What’s with the armor?”

“It’s for… protection,” Al said lamely.

“And who’s this guy?” Mason nodded at Edward – the one who had traveled through the Gate and was now wearing a questionable brown wig, that is.

“A… friend. He’s a friend. Yeah.” Al coughed and elbowed Edward in the side.

“Oh! Hi, Mason. I’m, uh, I’m Lionel. Nice to meet you.” Edward gave the man what he felt was an extremely unconvincing smile. Judging by the raised eyebrow he received in return, the feeling wasn’t out of place.

“You too,” Mason said at last before glancing at the clock. “Sorry, guys, but I really have to get back to work. Mind catching up later? Maybe tomorrow?”

“No problem!” they replied (a little too eagerly) and bolted.

Outside, the trio held a sidewalk conference. “Okay, what do we do now?” asked Edward.

Second Ed rubbed his chin. “It’s only four o’clock,” he said. “Let’s go check out this serpent thing on the mountain so we can get the colonel’s assignment out of the way.”

“I thought we wanted Teacher’s help in case it turned out to be dangerous…?” said Al doubtfully.

The two Eds made very similar snorting noises. “Pshh, relax. We’re great alchemists, all of us. It’s perfectly safe, right?”

“Don’t even go there,” Al muttered, probably remembering the whole fiasco with Scar (which, coincidentally, had _also_ started with one Edward or the other making a broad statement about safety). Unfortunately, being the younger brother, he was automatically outvoted. At once, with the sun still high in the sky, the three set off for Seluna’s Peak.

As it turned out, “peak” was a bit of a misnomer; although Seluna seemed to tower over the city if you looked at it from one angle, it wasn’t much more than a small plateau. It took less than an hour to get to the top, even with shrubs and thorns underfoot.

They stopped for a break on the outskirts of a small farm, just one of many laid out on the flat top of the hill. Like the rest, it had been evacuated some hours ago. The meadow was quiet, with only the faint rustling of grain to interrupt the silence. Edward pulled off the wig and let his hair blow around in the breeze.

“You shouldn’t do that,” Al scolded. “We might get seen.”

“But it feels good!” That wasn’t a very strong comeback. “A-and there’s no one here, anyway. Please?”

“If I could roll my eyes, I would,” came the long-suffering reply.

Second Ed took a swig from their waterskin. “Still haven’t caught sight of the snake yet,” he said, idly tossing some pebbles from one hand to the other.

“We should have seen it, or felt it at least, on the way up,” Al commented. “Aside from some uprooted forest, there’s no sign of it.”

Edward frowned thoughtfully. “And how did something that big get here anyway? Unless it magically teleported somehow – ” He stopped, his mouth still hanging open mid-word. The disturbance had started last night… and _he’d_ shown up here last night. Could it be? “Guys, I think this thing might be from my world.”

“Seriously?” Second Ed whistled. “So someone _else_ made a bargain with Truth?”

Edward shook his head doubtfully. “Dante can open the Gate too. She might have sent one of the homunculi – I can’t think of anyone else she hangs out with.” Well, that wasn’t quite true; he had a feeling Hohenheim was mixed up in this somehow, but he didn’t feel right telling them about that. Not yet. “In any case, whatever the problem was, it seems like it’s gone. Just like Mason said.”

“If you say so.” Second Ed stretched. “Let’s go. We can come back later with Teacher.” He and Al stood and trudged back towards the path. Edward stayed a moment, gathering his hair back inside the wig. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a dark green mass moving through the field and jumped up – but there was nothing there, just the same golden-tinted meadow that had been there before. _Quit being so paranoid,_ he thought, and put it out of his mind as he hurried to rejoin the others.

 

Based on Edward’s suggestions, it was decided that they would spend the night at some inn a few streets away.

“This better not turn out like your _last_ suggestion,” second Ed said as they headed down the street. As it turned out, the inn was still extant and open for businesss. They went inside and booked a double room (second Ed grumbled about the extra cost, but with three of them present, there was no way around it). Here they settled in for a long evening. The place was… decent, he supposed, and relatively insect-free, which was more than could be said for the brothers’ apartment in Central. At least the long evening wouldn’t be an itchy evening.

Second Ed and Al reclined on the sofa, bantering as usual, while second Ed filled out some forms to send to the colonel. Edward lay down on his bed and stared up at the blank ceiling. After a while he tuned out the sound of their voices. Their talk reminded him too much of all the things he’d left behind in his own world just a day ago. It was all so sudden. No matter how familiar everything here was, the people and places _he_ knew were so far off that they might as well have been on the moon. All part of Truth’s deal, of course – and he didn’t know if it had paid off.

Even this pair of brothers was different. They were a year younger, optimistic and carefree, even after discovering what the Philosopher’s Stone really was. That particular tidbit hadn’t fazed them much, but Edward still hadn’t told them everything. They didn’t know what homunculi were (though he was holding out hope that in this world things worked otherwise). They didn’t know what had happened to Liore, and to Rose. They didn’t know their father was a bodyjacking scumbag in a relationship with a crazy megalomaniac. If they _did_ know, it might crush them, and he couldn’t bear to see that happen. Not again.

“Hey, are you listening?”

Ed snapped back to reality. “What?”

Second Ed was looking at him from the couch, arms folded. “Dunno what you’re doing just lying there like that, but anyway. Al wanted to know if you ever bought him a kitten.”

“A kitten?” Edward blinked slowly. “Obviously, Al, I never bought _you_ a kitten since I just met you two days ago – ”

“You know what he means!” Al cried, flailing his arms. “Did you ever buy _your Al_ a kitten?”

“Of course not, we didn’t have the time or resources to take care of pets, everyone knows that – ”

“See?” said second Ed triumphantly. “I told you, it’s perfectly reasonable.”

“ – although I was thinking of getting him one before the whole fiasco started.” He hadn’t been, actually, but he didn’t mind adding a few logs to the flames of war burning here.

Al gasped theatrically. “Brother, even your other self said he’s okay with it! See, you’re the only one being so stupid!”

“No way!” second Ed sputtered. “He’s a totally different person from me!”

“He _is_ you and we both know it! You’re just a evil kitten-hating person, that’s what you are!”

“Oh, please, you’re just making things up now. I love animals so much I even volunteered at that shelter once, remember?”

“You were just trying to impress Winry!”

“What?! That’s not true!”

Edward rolled his eyes but couldn’t resist a grin. “Okay, okay. Let’s do something else before we wake up the whole town.”

Al still looked put out (well, he didn’t _look_ put out, of course, but – never mind). “Like what?”

They thought about this. “Hey, how about cards?” said second Ed, pulling his well-worn deck from his briefcase. “It’s been a while since we’ve done it with _three_ players, right, Al?”

“But you always cheat!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” second Ed sniffed. “Even if I did cheat, and I totally don’t, it wouldn’t help because other Ed here would know.”

“Yep,” Edward chimed in as earnestly as he could. He promised himself he’d rein himself in and play fair, just this once; Al deserved that much, right? Hopefully second Ed was following the same train of thought.

It soon became abundantly clear that he was not, in fact, following that train of thought. Edward saw, actually _saw_ , his other self casually slip a card or two up his sleeve. So much for brotherly love. But it would be rude to speak up, wouldn’t it?

“Okay, this time I’ve got it,” Al said proudly, laying out his hand. “A straight, how’s that?”

“Wha – no way!” Edward moaned, pushing his pile of change in Al’s direction. “I thought I had it for _sure_ this time!”

Second Ed chuckled rather menacingly. “Now wait just a second.” He showed his hand, revealing…

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!” yelped Al. “Four of a kind? You cheater!”

“That’s no way to talk to your big brother. Hand over those cenz.” Second Ed stuck out his hand. Instead of relinquishing his winnings, however, Al grabbed his arm and shook it viciously. Several cards fell out. An awkward silence followed.

“I knew it!” Al cried, scooping up second Ed’s coins. “All right, you two are both broke, so I win.” Suddenly he stopped and tipped his head to one side.

“Al, you okay?” asked Edward.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He hesitated for a moment. “It’s just… I felt something strange a second ago. I can’t really describe it, but it was like someone watching me.”

“Watching you?” Second Ed narrowed his eyes. “That’s weird.”

“I got the same feeling on the train this morning, but I don’t know why. I guess I’ll ask Teacher about it tomorrow.” Al cleared his nonexistent throat loudly. “Back on topic… you’re a cheater! _And_ you won’t let me get a cat! _I WON’T FORGIVE IT!_ ”

Before second Ed could offer a rebuttal, a pillow hit him in the face. “You traitor brother!” he yelled. Within minutes, pillows, coins, loose cards, and anything else the room had to offer were being appropriated as instruments of war. Edward sighed and climbed back into bed. _Were Al and I ever this stupid?_ He knew the answer to that one right away – of course they had been. These brothers here were exactly like them in every way. But he thought of the Al he knew, out there a hundred thousand miles away. _This_ Al could never replace that one, no matter what they had in common. Nothing could.

Back when they’d burned down their house, years and years ago, he’d promised himself he’d remember that day and all that they had lost. It was even written inside his watch – _don’t forget_. But, even then, there wasn’t any point in wallowing in the past, not when there were things to be done. He had to get up and keep going, no matter what. _Keep moving forward,_ he thought, _that’s what we used to say._

Edward made a vow then, lying there on the stiff mattress, that he would take everything back. All his mistakes, all that Truth had gotten from him, everything – that was behind him now, and he didn’t care much for what lay behind him.

_I’ll keep going and I’ll come back for you, Al, you hear? That’s a promise!_


	4. First Meetings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The 'epilogue' of sorts in the 2003 anime seemed to take place quite some time after the story's conclusion - this of course extends to Izumi's arrival in Resembool and agreement to train Al. To avoid timeskips and keep both worlds on the same page, I moved the event up a bit to just a week after Dante's defeat. Hopefully this doesn't bother anyone.

**AMESTRIS-2**

It was just past dawn, and the three Elrics were strolling down the streets of Dublith at a very unhurried pace.

“Can’t you two walk a _little_ faster?” the other Ed muttered under his breath. “Look, I had this exact conversation with her in my world, and it went perfectly that time.”

“That doesn’t mean anything!” Al wailed, clutching his helmet. “Even if our Teacher’s done human transmutation like yours has, she’ll still beat us up and you know it!”

 “Good thing I already wrote out my will last month,” Ed said in a gloomy voice.

The other Ed rolled his eyes and tugged his wig tighter around his head. “For crying out loud… I just said it’s going to be fine! Don’t you guys trust me at all?”

“We just met you, and you still haven’t told us everything you know,” Al pointed out.

“Yes, I have!” The other Ed’s lips drew together into a familiar pouty expression.

That definitely wasn’t true, but Al decided not to press the issue further; the other Ed probably had a good reason to keep quiet. _Probably_ being the key word.

They turned the corner, and – oh no, there it was: the Curtises’ butchershop, small but stolid in the brightening daylight, with no sign except the (faintly ominous) MEAT written in large letters over the roof. Al could hear his knees knocking together like some sort of metal percussion set, and he suddenly felt very glad, for once, that he couldn’t spontaneously burst into tears.

They crept up to the door. “Are you ready?” Ed whispered, his hand shaking slightly as he reached for the doorknob.

“She’s not gonna kill us… right?” Al said.

“Just do it already,” said the other Ed with a sigh. “I’m sure she’ll be happy to see us.”

Ed took a deep breath and pushed the door open. “Hi, Teacher!” he said brightly. “It’s Ed and Al! We came to visit!”

“Well, well,” came a voice from within. “You two really have grown…” Izumi Curtis emerged from behind the counter, her hands on her hips in a pose that was somehow still menacing even though Al was now a foot taller than her and made of metal. She stopped a few feet away and looked them up and down. Then, abruptly, she reached out and punched both of them into the wall. “Too slow!” she barked. “I thought I taught you two better than this!”

“Sorry – ” Ed stammered.

“We, um, we’ve been training hard, promise!” Al squeaked, getting to his feet.

The glare Izumi shot him was possibly enough to melt the moon. “Seems you’ve been slacking off lately. Come on in, I want to talk. Oh, and your little friend can come in too.”

The other Ed, who had wisely ducked behind a pile of crates, tiptoed through the door. The four sat down at the kitchen table while Sig made coffee.

“So.” Izumi made the word sound like a tolling bell of doom. “What have you been up to?”

Ed coughed. “I, uh, became a State Alchemist. We’ve been traveling around.”

“A State Alchemist?” Izumi scowled. “Didn’t I tell you precisely _not_ to do that?”

“I know! It’s just… we, uh, I had to do it, because, um. Because…” He took several deep breaths.

“Come on,” said the other Ed out of the corner of his mouth. “You promised you’d tell her.”

Ed squeezed his eyes shut and blurted out, “Becausewedidhumantransmutation!”

No one said anything for a few seconds, which was, in Al’s opinion, the scariest possible thing. Izumi sat back in her chair, arms folded tightly. “I see.” Her gaze shifted from Ed to Al and back. “That’s what I guessed, from how your bodies felt when I threw you a few minutes ago. You have automail, and _you_ don’t have a body. Am I right?”

 “Yeah,” Al said quietly, all too aware of how his voice echoed hollowly inside him. Then he looked up, just in time to be punched into the wall again.

“Teacher!” Ed cried, his head having narrowly missed a bookshelf. “That was a little unfair…”

“Idiots,” Izumi snapped as they sat back down unsteadily. “After all my warnings, all I tried to teach you, you did it anyway? And _then_ you sold your soul to the government? I can’t believe it.”

“But if I hadn’t signed up, there wouldn’t be any way to get Al’s body back,” Ed said pleadingly. “We were looking for the Philosopher’s Stone – ”

“A myth,” she said, cutting him off. “You can’t restore what Truth has taken away. Believe me, I know.” She doubled over suddenly, coughing, and spat a few flecks of blood into a basin on the counter.

“Teacher! Are you okay?” said Al worriedly.

She waved him off and returned to her seat. “As I was saying. Your determination is admirable, but you violated the taboo – ” her hand moved down, almost involuntarily it seemed, to her abdomen “ – and that’s the price you had to pay.”

 Al looked down, first at his giant hands resting in his lap, then at Ed’s hands across the table. His gloves were on, but as he shifted slightly there was a brief flash, barely a twinkle, of metal.

“But we have to get our bodies back,” he burst out. “How can we just go on with our lives, knowing we made that mistake? That’s not who we are, right, Brother?” Next to him, he thought he heard the other Ed’s breathing hitch, just for a second, and wondered if he’d said something wrong.

“Yeah, that’s right,” said _his_ Ed in the meantime, giving him a grin before turning back to Izumi. “I know we messed up, but we actually need your help right now, so… can you forgive us? Please?”

Izumi’s brows furrowed for a long while. Her hand was still resting on her stomach, Al noticed. “I suppose I shouldn’t be too angry,” she said finally. “The two of you followed my example even better than I’d thought.” So the other Ed _had_ been right about Izumi doing human transmutation. “But even so,” she continued, “I can’t excuse behavior like that. Especially from my own students – ”

“Wait, don’t expel them!” the other Ed interrupted, speaking up for the first time. “We’re not done yet!”

Izumi whipped around to glower at him. “How did you know I was going to do that? And who are you, anyway?”

“I knew because, uh, you did it to me a while back. And about who I am…” The other Ed bit his lip. “That’s actually why we’re here. It’s kind of a long story, but I’m Ed. I mean, I’m also Ed. Like, from another dimension.” This explanation didn’t seem to be very satisfactory.

“What?”

“He came here through the Gate,” Al said in a vain attempt to clear up the situation. “It’s like equivalent exchange for my body. Um, not _my_ body but his brother’s body. I think.”

“Yeah,” Ed chimed in helpfully. “He really is me. I’ve got him all checked out. He knows my favorite flavor of ice cream, the brand of oil Al uses to fix his joints, the name of that one kid in Resembool who always stole my homework, everything. Also, he looks like me too. See?” The other Ed took off his wig, revealing his shiny golden tresses. “It makes total sense, doesn’t it?”

There was another pause.

“Coffee’s ready,” said Sig.

 

Half an hour later, Al was reasonably sure everything had been discussed thoroughly. (Everything the other Ed had bothered to tell them, anyway.)

Izumi sipped from her mug thoughtfully and examined the detailed series of flowcharts the other Ed had drawn on the table. “Well. This defeats the point of my entire lecture, doesn’t it.”

“Not at all,” the other Ed said cheerfully. “You said pretty much the same thing to me and Al in our world. I think these two needed to hear it.”

Ed snorted. “We really didn’t. Anyway, before we get down to business here, we should deal with the thing up on Seluna’s Peak first.”

“What thing?” asked Izumi. As if in reply, a distant rumble rippled through the earth. Sig’s kitchen knives quivered slightly.

“A snake, people are saying,” the other Ed said as the vibrations ceased. “We went to have a look a few days ago, but there was nothing there. We were hoping you could accompany us today.”

“Me?” Izumi laughed. “I don’t know what help I’d be, but if that’s what you want, then I’m all for it.” She gulped down the rest of her coffee and rubbed her palms together. “Let’s go. Sig, honey, keep the kettle on for me while I’m gone, would you?”

The tremors became steadily more frequent as they made their way up the hill again. The other Ed was in front, practically sprinting through the undergrowth. Al and Ed trudged behind, questioned incessantly by their teacher all the while.

“So… you’re positive this boy is yourself? Absolutely positive?”

“No doubt about it,” Ed said, rolling his eyes. “Believe me, I know what I’m like. The real question is what exactly he’s been up to.”

Al pondered that. Back at Rose’s place, the other Ed had done a magnificent job dodging just about every question they’d asked. Sure, he’d told them about the Philosopher’s Stone and given out a few vague warnings about homunculi and the state and that sort of thing – he’d also apparently _died_ at some point, but Al wasn’t sure if that was just symbolism. No other answers had been forthcoming. Just another sign to Al that, no matter which universe you lived in, Edward Elric was always impossible to deal with.

“He’s from the future?” Izumi was saying. “How does that work?”

Ed shrugged. “He said some things were different here, so I guess it’s not really the future. But the stuff he knows could really come in handy.”

“If he doesn’t ditch us and go back home,” Al added, rather darkly.

“I wouldn’t do that!” cried Ed, as if _he’d_ been the one insulted. “I mean – he wouldn’t. He seems alright, doesn’t he?”

“Sure, but he cares more about his Al than about any of us. We’re just duplicates to him.”

Ed didn’t have a response to that. They walked on in silence.

This time when they got to the top, half of the wheat field had been flattened. Not a good sign.

“Hey, come out!” Ed shouted at the open air. The words died on the breeze without so much as an echo, but from the woods on the south side there came an answering roar. They tensed as the trees shook and rattled. Al caught a glimpse of a tail waving madly up above the leaves. Then, all of a sudden, it burst out – a great green serpent, its back covered in fins and ridges, bigger than anything he’d ever seen before. It passed above them in a wide circle, almost like… what was it called… the Ouroboros? No time for dredging up textbook information now.

The head swung from side to side until it caught sight of the four down below. Then there was another roar, this one ear-splittingly loud (Al didn’t exactly have ears, but the point stood).

They were expecting a fight, but instead the snake’s form began to crackle and shudder as red flashes passed through it. “What’s going on?” Izumi shouted.

“Just wait,” the other Ed replied, his face tight. “I think I’ve figured out who this is.”

The serpent disappeared behind a burst of red light, which flickered and condensed into a human form – a muscular young man with long green hair and an _interestingly_ tight outfit.

“I thought I killed you,” the creature seethed, pointing a trembling finger at Ed (it wasn’t clear which one he meant). “No, I’m _positive_ I killed you. You died right in front of me! Why the hell are you here?”

Ed looked as perplexed as Al felt. “Oh – that’s him.” He nodded at the other Ed, who waved awkwardly. “I actually don’t have anything to do with this.”

“What?! Don’t lie to me, I know who you are!”

“Stop, stop,” said the other Ed. “He’s right, Envy. I’m the one you’re looking for. And I’m not dead anymore, by the way.”

“Envy?” said Al, remembering the name. “The homunculus you talked about? What’s he doing here?”

Envy made a irritated growling noise in his throat. “Quit the chatter. I don’t know why you Elric brothers keep coming back after you’re supposed to be dead, but before I kill your dad I’m gonna finish the job here first!” He rushed toward them, beginning to change forms again.

“Watch out!” the other Ed yelled, transmuting a fist from the ground that hit Envy before he could shapeshift. “He can’t use alchemy, so just watch out in case he tries to, I dunno, impale you or something – ”

Ed and Al rushed towards Envy, only to find all their moves blocked expertly. “Hah! I figured out the two of you – three, whatever – a long time ago!” he snarled. Al finally got the drop on the homunculus long enough to ready a punch, but then he shifted into Winry – a stupid trick, but it made Al hesitate – and aimed a savage kick at Al’s ankles. Izumi threw up a wall at the last second and shoved Al behind it.

“Thanks, Teacher,” Al said, feeling embarrassed that he’d fallen for something like that.

“Don’t thank me. Your sparring is horrible.” She bent over and coughed before giving him a pat on the back. He couldn’t feel it, of course, but the dull clanging sound was reassuring nonetheless.

Al and Izumi rushed back into the fray. Envy and the two Eds were still duking it out, too close together for alchemy to be of much use. Al was sure that, given enough time, the four of them could beat Envy, but he had a feeling that the shapeshifting would make things a little complicated.

This suspicion was proven correct when Envy changed form again a few minutes later, this time into Ed. “Oh, great,” groaned the real Ed (one of them, anyway). “How are we supposed to tell each other apart now?”

“Just hit anyone that looks like you,” Izumi advised, promptly turning around and flinging a different Ed out of her way.

“Ow! Teacher, that was – ”

“That’s Envy, don’t listen to him – ”

“No, _you’re_ Envy!”

“Shut up!”

At this point the brawl descended into total chaos. Al waited it out and watched as closely as he could, finally catching a telltale red flash on one of the Eds. “Got you!” he cried, and punted Envy halfway across the field. Except it wasn’t Envy, as he soon realized when a blade from behind sliced into him, mercifully missing his blood seal.

“Hey!” cried Ed, rushing towards the real Envy.

“Got you that time,” Envy crowed, shifting back into his usual appearance. “Now I’ll just need to bump off one of you blond bastards – ” He dodged Ed’s punch and ducked low to the ground, his hand morphing into… was that a _spike_? The other Ed really hadn’t been kidding about impalement. “Brother, watch out!” he shouted, but he was afraid it might already be too late –

A black blur slashed through the scene, so quickly that at first Al thought he’d imagined it. But no, _something_ had definitely just happened. Ed was still standing where he had been, a baffled look on his face, but Envy stumbled backwards, blood spilling from a series of clean slits through his chest.

“Who was that?” he demanded, sounding more annoyed than anything at the sight of what really ought to have been a mortal wound.

A pale, dark-haired (and… very busty) woman sporting a bright red tattoo on her chest sauntered forward. “Well, well. I wasn’t expecting _you_ to be the disturbance threatening this little town,” she said silkily, retracting her spearlike fingernails.

“Lust?” sputtered Envy and the other Ed simultaneously. “What are you doing here?”

The woman – another homunculus, it seemed – raised an eyebrow. “I think I should be the one asking the questions here, don’t you agree?” She narrowed her eyes. “Envy, or whoever you really are, these people are _off limits_.”

“What’s with dead people not staying dead?” Envy hissed, getting to his feet as his wounds sealed themselves. “You’ve got no right to order me around like this. I’m here to find Hohenheim, and no one’s going to stop me!”

“Maybe I didn’t make myself clear,” Lust replied coolly. “I’m not _your_ world’s Lust. Lay a hand on any of these four, and we’ll see to it that you die a horrible death. Oh, and you’re coming with me.” When Envy didn’t move, she casually stabbed him in the forehead and began to drag him off through the field. At the rim of the woods she paused for a moment and turned to look at Izumi and the Elrics. “By the way… don’t get up to anything stupid. You’re needed here.” Then she was gone, with no sign of her presence except a winding trail of Envy’s blood.

It was quiet again. Both Eds were gaping blankly, and Izumi looked equally mystified. “Ed – do you know this woman?” she asked.

“Yeah, her name’s Lust,” said the other Ed, recovering from his state of shock. “She’s dead in my world, but I guess the homunculi are up to something here, too.”

“Could it be the same plot you told us about?” said Al. “The crazy lady with the red stones?”

The other Ed shook his head. “I don’t think so. Dante doesn’t exist here, for one thing. We’ll just have to see.” But the troubled look on his face didn’t look quite as optimistic.

 

Back at the butchershop, Ed fixed up the gash in Al’s armor as they settled in to continue the earlier conversation.

“I’ve dealt with Truth,” said Izumi, “but this parallel-world idea could change everything we know about alchemy.”

The other Ed nodded. “To be honest, I don’t really understand what happened in the first place to get me here. It doesn’t seem to fit with Equivalent Exchange.”

“It’s not too complicated,” said Izumi, pointing to the flowcharts on the table. “The Al from your world must have used his Philosopher’s Stone to reunite your body and soul and restore your limbs. Then you traded the limbs back along with your place in that world to reunite _his_ body and soul. You were supposed to go through the Gate when you died, and the only way for Truth to satisfy that while keeping you alive was to push you all the way to the other side. See? Simple.”

Al stared blankly at the charts, which featured five pen colors and at least twelve different arrows. These other brothers sure were proactive. “It doesn’t looksimple. And Brother, what does this have to do with your theory about Elric telepathy?”

“I told you, _that_ theory was something different!” Ed fumed. “Right now I’m just _hypothesizing_ that if you were to find your body in the Gate somehow, you could regain your memories of the Truth. You might even be able to form a connection to the other Al, since you both have a strong link to that place.”

“But I would have to separate myself from this body, and the only way to do that normally is by dreaming. Which, you know, I can’t.”

They stopped to think about this for a second. “We could knock you out,” the other Ed suggested.

“Um, how would that work?”

Izumi tapped her chin. “Al, let me see your blood seal.” Al obediently lifted up his helmet. “Alright, just like I thought. According to what I’ve read, if one were to add more blood to the rim of the circle, the soul would be dislodged temporarily.”

“Sounds kinda risky,” Ed said. “What if it messes up the seal?”

“It won’t,” Izumi replied, “as long as the extra blood comes from a person other than you. And, well, I’ve been coughing up plenty if you need some.” She glanced ruefully at the basin next to the sink, which had seen quite a lot of use this morning. “Of course, if you have a better idea, I’m all for it.”

Ed turned to Al. “Do you want to do it?”

Al considered for a moment. He didn’t want to think about the possibility of accidentally dying right here and now. But the Philosopher’s Stone was a dead end, and if there was a chance, even a slim one, that this experiment might help him and Ed get their bodies back, he couldn’t turn it down. _And_ he might get to do alchemy without needing to go through twelve boxes of chalk every month. It was a grand opportunity. “I’ll do it,” he said.

They filed into the Curtises’ small living room. Al sat down on the floor with his legs crossed and hands in his lap, just like Izumi had taught him years ago. The two Eds sat on the couch across from him, wearing identical looks of concern.

“Be careful,” Ed said quietly as Izumi dipped her fingers in the bowl. “I haven’t touched it since… that day. I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll just put some on the outside – it shouldn’t bother him at all.” She gave Al her trademark squinty stare. “Stay focused. Find your body and get as close to the Gate as you can. And _come back._ Got it?”

“Got it,” Al said, his voice barely shaking at all (what an accomplishment). Izumi stuck her bloodstained hand down Al’s armor and very gently dabbed the area around the seal. Al gasped involuntarily, making them all freeze.

“What is it? Something wrong?”

“No, nothing,” Al said hastily. “I – I can sort of feel it, that’s all. Keep going.” He _could_ feel it, by some miracle; not the true sensation of a person’s touch, dimly recalled from times past, but something else – more like a dull throbbing in every place Izumi had brushed with her fingertips.

“Are you focusing?” Izumi bellowed. “I’m almost out of blood here, you know.”

“Oh! Sorry, sorry.” Al let his gaze drift, which wasn’t nearly as conducive to meditation as closing his eyes had been back in the day, but it was good enough. The room went fuzzy, and he could feel his seal pulsating like a heartbeat, more and more strongly until it threatened to overwhelm him. He was in a dark tunnel, rushing faster and faster towards the light at the end – _that’s it,_ he thought, _that’s the place_ –

There was a flash, and he suddenly recalled something from years ago. Hands tearing at his body, his real body, while he reached for his mother’s hand, pleading with a blank-faced white figure to _let me go, it was a mistake, just let me touch her again, please!_ His own anguished cries echoed in his ears. That was Truth, he realized, the same Truth that Izumi and Ed had talked about, and this was his memory of the Gate.

Color and words and pure knowledge had surrounded him in that memory, and for a second, he had known everything the world had to offer. _The circle is the conduit._ Al put his hands together, barely aware if he was inhabiting the past or the present, and felt the energy travel through him. _I… I get it,_ he thought hazily, and he wandered near the edge of the abyss, to the gaping maw of the door to another world. The other side of the Gate.

Something passed him by, rushing in a torrent through the night. He felt it, and it was familiar to him in a way he couldn’t quite place. _Alphonse?_ he called out, but it continued on its merry way. Silly – there was only one Al out there. Everyone knew that.

The darkness receded, and he felt himself being pulled back to his body in the real world. Except… someone was already there.

 

**AMESTRIS-1**

“Here we are,” said Izumi, pushing open the door to the shop. Al stepped inside and looked around. The place was just as he remembered it – the meat hanging from the ceiling, the wooden countertops, the positively ancient decor.

Sig put the luggage down on the floor and wiped his hands on his pants. “First things first,” he rumbled. “Breakfast.”

After several heaping plates of scrambled eggs and porridge, Al got to work. To be honest, the thought of being attacked and yelled at by his teacher wasn’t very appealing, but then again he’d made the choice to come here himself. He wanted to learn more about alchemy, and there wasn’t anyone in the whole world better at alchemy than Izumi Curtis. (Well, no one he remembered, anyway.)

“Transmute a dirt block,” Izumi ordered when they got out to the backyard. Al dropped to the ground, traced the lines, and put his hands on the circle. A neat, if slightly misshapen, cube popped out of the earth.

“You’re going to get pummeled with a form like that!” she shouted upon seeing the result.

“Faster! This is basic stuff!”

“Did I say transmutation _ellipse?_ No, I said _circle!_ Work on it!”

“Do it with your toes this time!”

Twenty circles later, Al was embarassingly out of breath and doing his best not to collapse on the massive pile of blocks he had produced. He’d done this exercise before, of course, back when he and Ed had first come to Dublith, but since then he’d gotten rusty. For the past few months they’d had been focusing solely on their theories for human transmutation, which, obviously, hadn’t required much fieldwork. Still, he wasn’t _that_ bad, was he?

“Horrible,” Izumi declared, as if on cue. “If the old Al saw you right now, he’d be ashamed, I’ll tell you that much.”

“But, but he’s fourteen! That’s not fair!”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re fourteen too, remember? Now get up and do some more.”

Al missed Resembool already.

 

By the time they stopped for lunch, Al felt like he’d strolled through a warzone. He was sweating buckets, his arms felt like they were about to fall off, and his fingernails were full of dirt from drawing the same lousy circle over and over. “I think you need a break,” Izumi observed, munching a sandwich. “Maybe I did go a little hard on you, considering this is the first day. You’re not the fighter you were.”

“I can take it,” Al said defensively, bristling slightly at the comparison to his lost self.

“Considering that you barely have the energy to put your hands on the table, I doubt that.” She rested her head on her chin. “Let’s discuss your memories. Tell me the _exact_ moment you last remember.”

Al scrunched up his face and thought back. It had only been a few days ago in his recollection. “Brother and I were in the room at the end of the hall. We activated the circle, and at first everything was going like we expected, but then it went dark. There was –” this part was harder to recall “ – there was a lot of pain all of a sudden, and I felt like I was being dragged by hands somewhere. Ed said my name, and… then I woke up in the hospital. That’s it.”

“So you don’t remember the Gate? Or Truth?”

Al shook his head. “What’s that?”

“You’re probably better off not knowing.” Izumi made a face. “Anyway, based on what your friend Rose told me, I think I can figure out what happened to your memories. About a week ago, you had the Philosopher’s Stone in your body, which you used to restore Ed after he passed out.”

 _In my_ body _? Ew._ “I thought he died.”

“No, not even the Stone can bring back the dead. You must have done it before he went all the way through the Gate. Then, once he came back, he gave up his life to bring back your entire body and soul.”

“But it didn’t work perfectly,” Al pointed out, rather unnecessarily.

“Exactly. Whatever he gave up, it wasn’t enough to do a perfect human transmutation. So to balance the equation, the four years you and Ed spent together were taken away from your soul. I suppose he thought those years were very valuable.”

He missed Ed more than ever, hearing those words. “So… where’s Brother now?”

“I’m sure he’s still alive somewhere, or else the transmutation would have failed. Other than that… I don’t know.”

“Oh.” Al stared at his bowl dejectedly and didn’t speak for a moment. It was quiet. Out in the front of the store he heard the steady sound of Sig’s knife pounding away on the cutting board. _Thump-thump, thump-thump,_ almost like a heartbeat. Al sat up, suddenly remembering the visions he’d been having. “Teacher, there’s something else I need to tell you.”

“Hm?”

“Ever since I woke up in the hospital I’ve had this… empty feeling in the back of my head. I don’t know how to describe it, but whenever I fall asleep or zone out, it’s always there. Plus, I get these really weird dreams sometimes. Even when I’m awake.” He thought back to the incident on the train. “I can hear my own voice talking to someone else, but it sounds different. Then it fades away.”

Izumi furrowed her eyebrows. “That’s odd. I suppose the emptiness could be the result of you sensing the missing piece of your soul, but I can’t explain the visions. And – did you say your voice sounds different in them?”

“Yeah, it’s sort of echoey. Like I’m talking into a can or something – ” He stopped, suddenly realizing. Across the table, Izumi had come to the same conclusion.

“ – or a suit of armor,” she finished. “It’s a long shot, but these could be your old memories, Al.”

“Really?” Al’s eyes lit up. “Then I’ve got to find out more! Can I skip the afternoon practice? Pleeeease?”

Izumi sighed. “Fine. We’ll do some meditating after lunch. But first, wash your hands. They’re disgusting.”

Al looked at his dirt-caked fingernails ruefully. “That was your fault, Teacher.”

 

“You remember the pose, right?” Izumi asked.

Al sat on the living room floor, cross-legged with his hands in his lap. He nodded and took a few deep breaths.

“Now focus on that empty part of your mind. Since part of your soul is in the Gate, you should be drawn towards it.”

“Okay.” Al closed his eyes and let his mind drift. The pit rushed up to meet him; it was all he could do not to get swept away in the blackness. He tumbled down further and further, seeing brief glimpses of things he didn’t know and probably never would, but he wasn’t here for those. He was here to find his memories and, maybe, his brother. Not even every piece of them – just a little glimpse was all he needed. That wasn’t too much to ask, right?

There was a point of light up ahead, searingly bright in the darkness. _Almost there!_ He fell towards it, and it enveloped him. At first he was frozen, his eyes straining in the perfect white expanse, but then the light dimmed, and he found himself in… Izumi’s living room?

He was sitting in the exact same way, on the floor with his legs crossed, but his body seemed strange and oversized, like Ed’s big red coat hanging off his small frame. What was more, he couldn’t move, and he felt as if his nerves had gone dead. The only thing he could feel was a throbbing on the back of his neck, almost painful in its persistence.

Izumi was sitting on the floor too, leaning forward and staring at him. On the couch was Ed… two Eds? They were more-or-less identical, and both were looking at him with the same concerned expression on their faces. If this was a vision, it was certainly out of the ordinary.

He held on to the view for as long as he could, but all too soon it grew fuzzy and dim. The throbbing intensified, and he felt something pulling at his edges, urging him to _get out, go back where you’re supposed to, leave me alone!_ Al gave in finally and returned through the current, where he came back to himself.

“Well?” said the real Izumi. “Did you get anything?”

Al hesitated. “It was a clearer picture, but it wasn’t a memory. At least, I don’t think it was. I saw this room, and you were in it, and so was Brother. Except – ” he frowned in confusion “ – there were two of him.”

“Definitely not a memory,” Izumi decided quickly. “Were you in the vision?”

“I was in my body, but I was… really big. And I couldn’t feel anything except right here.” Al touched the nape of his neck.

“That’s where your blood seal used to be,” said Izumi. “You must have been inside the armor.” She jotted down some notes. “Not bad for a first try. If you meditate more, you’ll get better. I’m sure you’ll find a way to access those memories.”

“So… now what?”

Izumi grinned. “Back to the dirt heap, of course. We haven’t even done sparring yet! To train the mind, you must first train the body!” She jumped up and strolled out, humming to herself.

Al flopped down on the carpet and bemoaned his sad fate.

 

**AMESTRIS-2**

On the other side, the second Alphonse crashed back into his body.

“What happened?” said Ed worriedly. “You sort of fell over for a second.”

Al put his helmet back on, feeling slightly woozy. “I think I might have gotten my memories of the Gate back.”

“Really? Did you remember anything important?”

“No,” he admitted. “I saw a lot of the Truth, but there wasn’t anything there that could help us get our bodies back. Oh, and I saw your brother.”

The other Ed’s eyes widened. “You did?”

“Well, maybe. I could feel him in my body – this one, I mean, the armor – when I was trying to come back.”

“So we know he’s alive,” Ed said brightly. “That’s something, right, other Ed?”

“Sure,” the other Ed replied glumly, “but he’s probably in bad shape if he’s going around hijacking people’s bodies.”

“It wasn’t like _that_ ,” Al said, feeling the need to defend his other self. “He’s been sort of connected to me for a while. You know a few nights ago when we were playing cards and I felt that weird presence? I think that was him.”

They pondered this information. “Well, in any case,” said Izumi, “that’s enough to go on for one day. Why don’t you three make yourselves useful for once and help me dust the shelves?”

“Come on, Teacher, that’s not fair!”

“I thought we were here to learn!”

“Can’t we do something else?”

Izumi very slowly turned around and gave them her best glare. “I _said_ , dust the shelves.” There was a pause.

“Yes, ma’am,” they replied in unison.

 

That night, long after the lights had gone off all over Dublith, another family meeting was underway.

“So this is the creature you picked up down south?” said Father, examining the surly figure attached securely to a board via spear through the chest. “Interesting. I wasn’t aware that the other world also contained homunculi.”

Envy glared up at him and struggled against his bonds. “I’m not here to work for you, old man. I just want to get my hands on Hohenheim and his little snot-nosed kids.”

“Didn’t I just tell you we need them?” Lust snapped. “You’ll stay here, where we can keep an eye on you.”

“Can I eat him?” Gluttony piped up hopefully. Lust shushed him and turned to the rest of the group. “How is everyone else doing?” she asked.

Wrath shrugged. “Envy – our Envy, I mean – is still in Liore, but he’ll be back in Central soon. Pride’s reading bedtime stories with my wife. Greed… my forces are still out looking for him, but the whole business with Scar is a bit of a distraction. And Sloth’s digging, as usual.” He paused. “Father, is this new homunculus really from the other world?”

“He is,” said Father, steepling his hands thoughtfully. “A few days ago I felt the energy of three massive transmutations, all around the same time. It is probable that, somehow, the Gate connecting our world to the other was opened ahead of time. Once for Envy, once for Edward Elric, and once for Van Hohenheim. At least, that’s my conjecture.”

“He’s here, then?” Envy said, his head jerking up. The accompanying spurt of blood didn’t seem to faze him.

“I believe so.” Father gave Envy a calculating look. “You have some personal connection to Hohenheim, don’t you?”

Envy went still. “None of your business,” he growled. “And I could say the same to you – you’re practically his twin.”

“Indeed. But I’m willing to tell you my secrets if you tell me yours,” said Father. “The Promised Day is in only a few months. Once I’m through with my sacrifices, I’ll let you do what you want with them.”

“You really want us to work with him?” said Lust, curling her lip. “He can’t be trusted. I’d rather make bargains with the Fullmetal Alchemist himself.” Envy seemed to find this hilarious for some reason, but she ignored him.

“No need for that,” Father replied. “I just want information. After all, it’ll be difficult to conquer the other Amestris if I don’t know what’s there, don’t you think?”

“ _That’s_ what you’re after?” Envy contemplated the situation for a while, then smirked. “Sounds a lot more fun than what Dante had in mind. I’ll think about it.”

The other three homunculi present didn’t look pleased about this, but they had no choice in the matter. “Anything else to discuss?” said Wrath. “I need to get back to the house soon.”

“Just some last orders,” said Father. “Lust, I want that Ishbalan man disposed of before he gets to the sacrifices. Take Gluttony and get rid of him. Wrath, continue the search for Greed. And as for the Elrics, keep an eye on them – including the new one. Make sure they don’t get too close to the truth. Or the Truth, for that matter. Dismissed!”


	5. Reminiscence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so short! School and all that, you know. Also, and this is entirely random, but if you have any thoughts at all about the story thus far, good or bad, please leave a review or let me know. I really do appreciate comments!

**AMESTRIS-1**

_Al and Ed sat at the dinner table, scribbling furiously. Formulas and test tubes surrounded them, floor to ceiling, lit by the faint glow of a stubby candle. Normally Al would have grumbled at the mess, but not tonight. Tonight they were going to bring Mom back._

_Ed looked up from across the table, and their eyes met. “Al… this is all my fault.”_

_Wait, that wasn’t right. “What is?”_

_“I’m sorry.” He stood jerkily, and his face shifted. Now he was a little bit taller… his arm and leg were gone, replaced by metal… and now his hair was longer, woven in a braid… Al stared up at him in horror, watching each change flash by. “Brother? What’s going on?”_

_“Don’t forget,” Ed gasped, doubling over. Blood dripped from his mouth and trickled down to the floor. “Don’t forget, you hear?”_

_Al stumbled to his feet and ran to him, wading through piles of scrolls and charts, but the table was so long. When had it gotten so long? Far away, Ed – fifteen now, or maybe sixteen – grabbed the candle and held it up, illuminating his features. There was a shadow behind him, a shadow Al recognized. “Mom?” he whispered, tripping and landing on his knees. “Mom!”_

_Ed blew the candle out, and everything went dark._

_Suddenly Al was in a city street. It was evening, and one or two stars twinkled faintly above the lights. There were other people with him, but everything was so fuzzy –_

_“ – kind of pub is this?”_

_“I know her very well – ”_

_“ – we’ll talk more when we get there – ”_

This isn’t a dream _, he realized, and just then the street exploded._

**AMESTRIS-2**

Roy Mustang was sitting in his office doing nothing much, as always (it was 12:15, so there was still _plenty_ of time till forms were due) when the phone rang, making him nearly jump out of his seat. “Hello?”

“Hi, Colonel, it’s me!” chirped a boyish voice.

Roy rolled his eyes. “Yes, Fullmetal, what do you want?”

“I was just calling to let you know that Al and I fixed up the situation in Dublith, and we’re gonna be back in Central this afternoon with our full report.”

He rummaged through his drawers and found the list of assignments. “About the serpent, you mean? That was due ages ago.”

“What?!” the voice exclaimed with an outraged crackle of static. “I sent you a letter the day after we arrived! Didn’t you read it at all?”

Roy thought back. He _did_ recall an envelope from Dublith arriving on his desk recently. To be more exact, it had arrived atop the stacks of paper on his desk… the same stacks that he’d accidentally torched four days ago when Black Hayate had stepped on his pinkie toe. Oops.

“…Of course I read it,” he said.

“Then you should know that the serpent didn’t show up until yesterday – there was no way we could have found it before then!” Ed blew out a breath. “ _Anyway_ , I was wondering if you’d like to meet us outside the office when we get back. You know, to catch up on things.”

There was no way the pipsqueak had any actual interest in Roy’s daily life. This was probably a cover for some top-secret discussion. “Do you have a place in mind?”

“Yeah, you know the sandwich shop on Ninth Street? Al and I go there all the time. Can you be there at five-thirty?”

“Not really dinner food,” Roy commented. He had a prior commitment this evening (a brunette this time), but he could clear that. “I’ll be there. See you then.”

“Okay, bye!” The line abruptly went dead. Roy put down the phone and grimaced in exasperation. Whatever prodigious talents Ed had, he was without a doubt a fifteen-year-old boy.

Hawkeye entered the room just then and put another sheaf of paper on his desk. “A request for prison inspections. They’re asking for a response by tomorrow morning.” She noticed his expression. “Is something wrong, Colonel?”

Roy rubbed his forehead. “Nothing in particular. Lieutenant, do you have any sandwich recommendations? I’ve got somewhere to be later today. And this time,” he added quickly, “it’s not a date.”

 

 “He said yes,” Ed announced back in Dublith, hanging up the phone. “Hey, are you sure you want to tell him? You were the one who warned us about the government, after all.”

The other Ed shrugged. “Yeah, but now that the homunculi are involved, the entire country could be in danger. And in my world at least, the colonel turned out to be a big help. Most of the time.” Pretty faint praise, in Ed’s opinion.

Izumi came out to see them off. “Leaving already?”

“The colonel wants my report, so I don’t have much of a choice,” said Ed, picking up his briefcase.

“Of course. Nothing less than expected from a dog of the military,” she said, sniffing derisively. “Come back soon, if you can. If those beings on Seluna’s Peak yesterday really were homunculi, then we need to find out what they want right away.”

“Lust said they need us alive for some reason,” said Al. “And she didn’t look surprised to see two Eds, either. I don’t think their plot is the same as it was in your world.”

“Yeah, there isn’t any sign of Dante here. I’m not sure what’s going on, but hopefully talking with the colonel will help.” The other Ed stood up. “Thanks for everything, Teacher.”

“Thank me when you get your bodies back,” Izumi replied sternly, drawing the three into a hug. “Until then, goodbye.”

They walked off to the train station and settled in for another long ride. Ed normally would have used this time to take a nap or make notes in his journal or play cards (okay, maybe cards weren’t an option anymore after the fiasco at the hotel), but this time they had things to discuss. Their car was empty, thankfully, so they could talk freely.

“So what’s the plan?” asked Ed. “Even if we tell the colonel, I doubt there’s much he can do to help us.”

“There’s the whole situation with me,” said Al. “I don’t really know what happened yesterday, but I bet we could use it to get some answers.”

“Also, we need to learn more about the homunculi,” the other Ed said. “We’ve only seen two so far, and one of them was from my world. There are supposed to be seven. Their identities… well, they might not be the same as the ones I know, but their identities are important.”

Vague as always – to be honest, Ed was starting to get fed up with this. Since that first night in Liore, the other Ed’s story had been full of missing pieces. He knew _he’d_ never keep secrets this big, so it didn’t make sense that his other self was being so cagey.

Ed decided that he wanted answers, and now was the time to get them. “Hey,” he said, sitting up straighter. “Are you ever gonna tell us more?”

The other Ed looked sidelong at him. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t even say that,” Ed snorted. “You know what I’m getting at. There’s a lot of stuff about your world you haven’t been telling us. Who the homunculi are, for one thing. Why we can’t trust the government. And what the whole deal was with our dad.”

Al hesitated, then nodded. “I hate to say it, but he’s right. If we want to fix this whole situation, we need all the information we can get.”

The other Ed didn’t answer immediately, instead staring off into the distance. His face looked very different all of a sudden, with an expression Ed couldn’t ever recall using himself. “That watch of yours,” he said finally. “You know what’s in it, right?”

 _Don’t forget._ “So what?” Ed replied, his voice level.

“Then you ought to know that some things are really better off in the past.” The other Ed’s mouth tightened as he turned back to face them. “You two haven’t seen the worst yet, believe me.”

“Are you talking about that silver pocket watch?” said Al, looking back and forth in confusion. “What’s in it – ”

“Nah, it’s nothing,” Ed said hastily. All right, so he _was_ capable of keeping big secrets, but this – this was different.  Wasn’t it? “And that has nothing to do with this. Whatever happened to you before, you can’t just leave it behind. Isn’t your whole goal to get back home?”

“If you want to put it that way,” said the other Ed, balling his hands into fists, “then I really shouldn’t be helping you at all. I’ve – I’ve got enough people to care about. This Amestris isn’t the real one, anyway!”

They were shocked silent for a moment by this sudden outburst, which the other Ed seemd to regret already. Ed opened his mouth to retort, but Al beat him to it. “We’re not real to you? How can you say that?” he burst out. “You promised me we’d always stick together!”

“I didn’t promise _you_ that,” the other Ed muttered, though he wouldn’t meet their gaze. “And it’s not exactly a secret that I’d like to get out of here.”

“Yeah, and?” Ed said. “As long as you’re here, we’ll stick together. That’s what I would’ve done, anyway.”

“I don’t care what you would’ve done!” cried the other Ed. “I’m not you. I’ve already fought my battles. I saw nine thousand people disappear in a second. And that was _after_ a civil war! I… I even killed people, okay?” Something seemed to shrink in him as he spoke. “Al’s out there somewhere looking for me, and I’m sitting here trying to beat the homunculi again. Is it too much to just want to – to finish it all and go home?”

Ed couldn’t imagine himself ever saying these things. What could be so horrible that he’d want to give up? “Look, this world isn’t just some dream of yours. We’re here, and you’re stuck with us.”

“That’s right,” Al chimed in. “And if you need anything, you know I’m always around.”

“I know.” The other Ed looked down at his lap. “I do want to help you. But I don’t have to tell you everything.”

This was probably the best they were ever going to get out of him. “Fine by me,” Ed said. “Could you at least give us more details on those homunculi?”

“Okay. You might want to take notes.”

Ed got out his journal and began writing. After a while (at least three stops on the train – just like Ed himself, the other Ed was really an unstoppable talker once he got going), he’d compiled a pretty decent list of facts.

 

-  _Lust: obsessed with becoming human, also has spear fingers, she’s decent I guess_

-  _Gluttony: I dunno really, but he’ll eat anything_

-  _Envy: shapeshifter, a real jerk_

-  _Greed: can shield up his body with carbon, tried to kidnap Al once, he’s also a pretty cool guy and – OH, I just remembered he was in Dublith, we should probably tell Teacher_

-  _Sloth: has freaky water powers, worked as Fuhrer’s secretary, “Juliet Douglas”_

-  _Wrath: stole my limbs_ _and used them to do alchemy, snot-nosed little psycho_

-  _Pride: Fuhrer King Bradley???_

 

“Wait, what?!” Al and Ed cried upon hearing the last one.

“It’s true,” said the other Ed firmly. “I’m positive about this. He’s been using the military to collect souls for Philosopher’s Stones, and that’s why he started the war in Ishbal.”

“This is just getting weird,” Al muttered. “No wonder you didn’t want to get the colonel involved.”

“Well, he’s not working with them,” said the other Ed reassuringly. “Probably.”

Ed rolled his eyes and turned his gaze to the window – he usually wasn’t much for admiring scenery, but his head hurt too much to do anything else. Outside, the hills and valleys were rushing by, glowing in the late-afternoon sunshine. He watched them pass absently, wondering about all the secrets still tied up in this whole mess. The Philosopher’s Stone, Ishbal, Izumi, the Fuhrer of all people… this was way too much. Ed almost wished he could go back to a week ago, to that sunset in Liore, when their goal had been as simple as it could possibly get. Now he hadn’t the slightest idea where things were heading.

Well, never mind that. One step at a time, right?

 

At precisely 5:37 p.m., Roy Mustang walked into the sandwich shop on the corner of Ninth and Parker.

“Great, he’s here,” said Ed. “Colonel, I got salami for you.”

Mustang wrinkled his nose. “I’m actually more of the lettuce-and-tomatoes type – ”

“Yeah, yeah. Come on, let’s make this quick. We have a special surprise for you waiting at the park, don’t we, Al?”

“Uh-huh,” Al said, sounding faintly resigned – probably thinking about the appalling certainty that they’d have to explain the entire saga yet again. Ed gave him a brotherly clap on the back as they walked out, only to hear a sharp clattering sound from the windowsill by the door.

“The flowerpot again?!” Al yelped. “Brother, this is all your fault!”

The three sped out the door before the shopkeeper noticed and made for the park, where Ed picked out a secluded park bench pleasantly far from any action.

“So what’s this special surprise?” Mustang attempted his commanding tone of voice, which worked much less well when he was munching salami.

Ed looked around furtively. “I think the coast’s clear. Hey,” he said to the bush behind them, “you can come out now.” The bush rustled, and the other Ed’s blond head popped out from the top.

“Hi, Colonel, it’s me!”

The satisfaction of seeing a piece of chewed-up sandwich fall out of Mustang’s open mouth was enough to make the whole past week worth it. Even Al couldn’t resist giggling a little.

“Wha – what’s going on?” Mustang demanded, looking from one Ed to the other. “Who are _you_?”

The other Ed took a seat next to the colonel. “Long story short, I’m like Edward, but from another universe. There’s a second Amestris on the other side of the Gate, and that’s where I came from.”

To his credit, Mustang took this remarkably well. “You don’t mean the same Gate used for human transmutation?”

“Pretty much. I was trying to get Al’s body back, which caused me to cross over. That’s not what we came here to tell you, though.” The other Ed twiddled his fingers a little nervously. “The serpent turned out to be a homunculus named Envy from my world, but he’s not the only one here. Based on my experiences, I think there’s a conspiracy in the government – I don’t know what, but they need us for some reason.” Remarkably direct. If only he’d been so clear with Ed and Al.

Mustang raised an eyebrow. “Homunculi? There aren’t any records of such creatures outside of legends and alchemical theory.”

“They’re real, we swear!” said Al, crossing his heart earnestly. “There’s some other stuff, but we didn’t really want to tell you everything because you, uh, you might be one of them. Not that we don’t trust you or anything, but…”

“No, I get it,” Mustang grunted, looking a little put out nonetheless. “Any word on the leader of this conspiracy?”

“About that.” Ed coughed and looked around. The park had gone deathly quiet with the coming of night, and the shadows were growing long. Maybe this wasn’t such a good place to commit high treason. “Let’s find somewhere else to talk.”

“We just _got_ here,” Al complained as they set off down the main road, taking care to act normally (as normally as a giant suit of armor, a sandwich-eating officer, and two identical teenagers could act, anyway). The street lights came on overhead, and the sparse evening crowd was milling about under the stark glow. There was some pub around here that Mustang seemed to trust. It was just a block away; hopefully, once they got there, Ed could find some way to break the news –

_boom_

It was silent for a split second, as if his ears had popped, and the ground beneath him rippled like a pond in an earthquake. Time slowed to a stop. There was a grand white flash from the canal to the left – no, from _under_ the canal, somehow – and then came the cracks, rushing outwards, coming straight for him, and all the while the noise grew and grew –

A sheer blast of energy sent him into the air. He looked down dizzily, seeing the rubble crashing down five feet below him in slow motion, and then he fell, landing on his side in a pile of rubble. _That_ brought him back to reality.

Screams and blaring horns were sounding in the dusty air. Ed could dimly see people running around in the distance, but they were all too far away to make out. He tried to move and abruptly noticed that he was pinned under a chunk of concrete. And bleeding profusely, but that was the usual. _What just happened? Where’d everyone go?_ _Damn, if someone sees the other guy right now…_ Never mind that. The other Ed could handle himself.

“Brother! There you are!” Al ran up to him and pushed the boulder away with relative ease. “Are you okay?”

Ed sat up unsteadily, his automail arm dangling limply. “Could be better. What about Colonel Bastard and other Ed?”

“The colonel passed out, but he’ll probably be fine. Other Ed got beat up pretty bad too, but I managed to sneak him away before anyone noticed.” Al sighed. “Some gas leak, huh?”

“Gas leak? Are you kidding?” Ed barked out a laugh, which dissolved into a coughing fit. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned from those lame dime novels you used to read, it’s that there’s no such thing as a regular old _gas leak_.”

 “Hey! Those books are good!”

 

Lust stalked away from the scene, muttering to herself. Gluttony followed, sucking his thumb disconsolately.

“Didn’t get to eat him,” he sniffled, turning to look at the cave-in. “The Ishbalan man… dead?”

“No,” she replied tersely, dragging him along. “He blew up the sewer tunnel and got away. It was just a minute ago, remember?” Ugh. Gluttony was alright as a partner in crime, but he was dumber than the dirt she was walking on.

She’d managed to stab Scar in the arm as he’d collapsed the wall, which ought to keep him down for a while (and maybe more than a while, if the tattoo there really was a transmutation circle). That was good, but it wasn’t enough – Father had outright demanded to see the man’s corpse for himself. With Scar gone, the sacrifices would be safe, and, more importantly, they’d _feel_ safe. The homunculi had all been counting on it, Father especially. Lust cringed inwardly, imagining the upcoming month of punishment he’d no doubt be giving her. Lair-cleaning duty was bad enough, but with that other Envy in there snarking at her… even a date with Roy Mustang would be better than suffering that indignity.

“What are we gonna do now?” Gluttony asked.

Lust sighed. “We’ll call Wrath to tell him the news, and then we’ll head back to the base.”

“And then what?”

“Father’s going to make us sweep the floors. Or dust the pipes. Or… I don’t know, use your imagination.”

The date was sounding better and better by the second.


	6. The Lonely Evening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much action in this one, I'm afraid. (Well... not much of anything, to be honest.) Hope you like it nonetheless.

**AMESTRIS-1**

Al jolted awake, his breath coming in gasps. The moon was still up in the sky; there were a good three hours at least till morning. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, trying to wish away the awful headache in the back of his head. What had he been dreaming about, anyway?

Oh, well. There was no going back to sleep now. With a mighty yawn, he got up from the sofa and stumbled over to the kitchen, where he poured himself a glass of milk. For a while he just sat there at the table and stared at it, remembering times past.

Izumi’s kitchen was tiny and it smelled quite heavily of meat, but it reminded Al of home all the same. He’d gotten nightmares a lot, back in the day. When he’d been little, he’d go straight to Ed or Mom and climb into bed with them, but later on he’d wanted to prove what a big boy he was, and then he’d go to the kitchen and sit by himself. Half the time one of them would follow him there anyway.

_“Did you have bad dreams again?”_

_“Oh… hi, Mom. No, I just, um, I wanted to get up early today.”_

_“You don’t have to pretend, you know. I can always tell what my boys are thinking.”_

_“You can?”_

_“Yes. In fact, I know that right now you want a hug so you can go back to sleep. And maybe a little snack, too. Hmm?”_

She’d been right, of course; that was always how it had been. _“I’m fine, honestly.”_

_“You’re not fine if you’re having nightmares. Come on now, do you want milk or not?”_

_“… Okay, but after this I’m not gonna need it anymore.”_

_“I know you won’t. You’re getting big now, aren’t you? Just like your dad. If he was here, I bet he’d be proud to see what a smart, wonderful boy you are.”_

_“Really?”_

_“Really.”_ She’d given him a hug then, a quick one, but still comforting. He hadn’t really seen it for what it was back then. _“Good night, Al.”_

_“Good night, Mom.”_

After she’d died, he’d stopped having nightmares as much, and when he did have them the kitchen hadn’t been such a welcoming place anymore. Usually Ed would find him there, tell him he was being a whiner, then pause on the way out the door and apologize. It had settled into a sort of routine nearly as comfortable as the one that had been before. Though Ed had probably forgotten about it by now – four years had passed, after all.

The glass of milk was still sitting on the table. Al picked it up and took a sip. It tasted good. Ed had always hated it for some arcane height-related reason, but he was stupid. He was stupid, and silly, and the best big brother ever, and now he was gone, or – no, he wasn’t dead. Al blocked the thought instinctively. There was no way, _no way_ Ed would just go off and leave Al here by himself.

Al took another sip and wondered what it would be like once he got his memories back. Would it hurt? Would he feel like his real age again? Would he even be the same person? That was a lot to consider. Al didn’t want to lose the personality he had now, but then again, he wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was _supposed_ to be big and tall and, well, whole. The Al from before, the dashing genius alchemist who spent his days rescuing fair maidens in his spare time (well, that was how Al envisioned him) – Ed had given himself up for _that_ brother, not the little runt from before.

He rummaged in his pocket and found the photograph that Winry had given him. It looked exactly the same as it had that morning on the Rockbells’ front porch, of course. Ed was still grinning, the armor was still looking up at him, and the sun was still shining on the verdant field. Al idly traced the figures with his little finger. First Ed with his cane and his gleaming automail, then himself with those broad shoulders and spikes, and lastly the trees and the hills behind them. Al wished more than anything that he could remember that day. He looked outside and saw a lone star twinkling up in the sky. It wasn’t the first star of the evening or anything like that, but he still crossed all this fingers and toes and wished as hard as he could. _I know I used to wish for teddy bears and candy and that stuff, but forget all that… this is all I want, just this thing. Please?_

He realized how stupid he looked right now, craning his head at the window and asking a star to bend the rules of alchemy for him. Maybe he needed to get his mind off things – do a little meditation or something. He drained the glass, washed and dried it like a good boy, and went back to the living room. It probably wasn’t a good idea to try this without Izumi here, he reckoned guiltily, but whatever. There wasn’t any point in living if you couldn’t take some risks every now and then.

Al sat down on the floor, crossed his legs, and concentrated on the black hole in his head. Even after only doing it once, he already found it easier to reach that spot and fall down into it, away from his body and towards the Gate as it rushed up to meet him. Endless black, empty white, and –

– _nighttime, moonlight… cats, for some reason –_

_“– who are you?”_

_“_ – _your brother, he’s_ –”

– _no, not yet, not right now_ –

There was a jolt, a profound feeling of confusion and desperation that he was sure hadn’t come from himself, and then he was back. Facedown on the carpet, too.

The vision hadn’t been as clear as it had been yesterday; all he gathered was that there had been a dark room with moonlight shining into it, just like this one, and someone had been trying to talk to him. No, not just _someone_ , he realized, thinking over the voice he’d heard – it had been himself. Including the deep appreciation for cats, apparently. Al shook his head, unable to work it all out, and climbed back onto the sofa. The milk was settling in, and he felt sleepy again.

The photograph was still in his hand, and he knew it really would’ve been better to put it on the table where he wouldn’t wrinkle it in his sleep, but tonight he wanted to keep it close. As silly as it sounded, having that one little memory by his side made him feel a little bit nearer to Ed. Perhaps, out there in the wide world, his brother was remembering that same beautiful day in Resembool, or looking up at that same lonely star. Or maybe not, but it never hurt to dream.

_Good night, Brother._

**AMESTRIS-2**

Two or three universes away, Al’s dear brother was definitely not having a good night. Sudden explosions tended to do that.

“Evening, Mr. Elric,” said the receptionist. “How are y– oh my.”

“Yeah, great, I’m good,” Edward said, trying to cover up the array of cuts and bruises dotting his body (not an easy task). “Can you, uh, tell me my room number?”

The receptionist eyed him suspiciously. “503, of course. Shouldn’t you know that by now?”

_Ah, crap._ “Sorry, I’m just sorta… out of it. Alchemist stuff. You know.”

“Well, if you say so.” She cleared her throat. “If you need anything, just, er, just let me know.”

“Mm, thanks.” Edward gave her a feeble wave and limped up to the fifth floor, where he stumbled through the door of the Elric brothers’ apartment and fell facedown on second Ed’s bed without even bothering to turn on the lights. It was a miracle he’d even made it this far – at least the dorm building’s location hadn’t changed from his world.

Once the police had arrived on the scene, he’d had to make himself scarce, naturally. It had seemed like a good decision at the time, but now… ugh. He rubbed the bruises swelling on his back and, for once in his life, wished he was lying in the hospital instead of here on second Ed’s mussed-up sheets (it seemed they had similar ideas of hygiene).

Edward rolled over on his side, squeezed his eyes shut, and tried to fall asleep; goodness knew he needed a break from all this guilt and stress. Of course, by his luck, that was never going to happen. He was left awake, staring at the backs of his eyelids and sinking into his own lonely thoughts.

The train ride here – that had gone wrong in just about every way possible. Edward hadn’t the slightest idea why he’d picked _that_ particular moment to rant about how much he hated the world. He didn’t really hate it, of course; he didn’t hate these other brothers or anything they stood for, not in the slightest (at least, that was what he told himself), but the words had just come spilling out. And the way they’d looked at him … he never wanted to see that look ever again.

For now they’d given up on asking him his secrets, but even then Edward knew that wouldn’t last. Eventually he’d have to cave and tell them that homunculi were failed human transmutations, and that Liore was about to become the second Ishbal, and their father was a murderer many times over, and that their mother was dead at his hands – but no. No, no, no. There were some things no one, not even his own self, deserved to know. (And besides, Sloth _wasn’t_ his mom.)

One week had passed since he’d left his world behind; one week since everything had gone completely pear-shaped. He wondered how Al – _his_ Al – was getting on. The whole Elric-telepathy thing had confirmed he was alive, but other than that they knew nothing. Edward didn’t want to think about all the terrible possibilities. If he really had messed up his one chance to make things right…

There was a knock on the door. “Hey, it’s me,” said Al. For a second he dared to think that was his own brother – he sure sounded enough like him – but no, of course not.

“Are you in there?” Al continued worriedly.

“Uh-huh,” said Edward. “Door’s unlocked.”

Al stepped in and turned on the light. Edward scrunched up his face in a desperate attempt to avoid the hellish rays (well, as hellish as a bunch of cheap low-grade dorm bulbs could get).

“Oh, sorry about that,” said Al. “I brought you some food. And some stuff from the hospital.” He set an ice pack and some gauze on the table. “Where are you hurting?”

 “Nowhere.”

“Fine, be that way.” Al hmphed and began inspecting Edward’s rather purplish shins. “You’re gonna have to tell me if I’m poking too hard, okay?”

“Right, right.” He was poking too hard right now, actually, but Edward wasn’t about to tell him that. “So how’s the other guy? And the colonel?”

“Brother messed up his automail, but other than that they’re both alright. The nurses told me they’ll be out by tomorrow afternoon at the latest. How’s this?” Al lifted up Ed’s shirt and dropped the ice pack on his back.

Edward whimpered a little too enthusiastically. “That’s good,” he said once he’d recovered the power of speech. “Honestly, you don’t need to go to all that trouble. It’s not really that bad.”

“Pshh. I can see right through you when you lie like that, you know. You’re just as bad as he is.”

That made Edward feel guilty again. He didn’t answer, and they lapsed into silence as Al bandaged his arm. The ceiling fan twirled lazily, but other that it was quiet. That, and rather painfully awkward.

“So, um…” said Al after a while. “What’s your brother like?”

The question caught him completely off guard. “Huh?”

Al shuffled bashfully, making a familiar series of soft clanks. “I mean, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. I was just wondering. Since I’m sort of connected to him now and all that.”

Edward opened an eye to shoot him a curious glance. “Not much there to say. He’s just like you. Adorable, sweet, caring…” Well, he didn’t want to build up Al’s ego _too_ much. “…clueless, a crybaby, and he needs me to rescue him all the time. You know.”

“I’m not like that!” Al accidentally bumped a particularly nasty bruise, causing Ed to yelp involuntarily. “Oops. Anyway. He can’t be _exactly_ like me. You and Brother aren’t the same, are you?”

“Close enough,” grunted Edward. “If I went back in time by a year, I’m sure I’d be just like him. I bet it’s like that with you.”

Al thought about that. “But when I felt him yesterday during the meditation, something was – different. I can’t really explain it, but his soul wasn’t lined up with mine. It was like he was only half there.”

“Weird.” Edward frowned. “Well, it shouldn’t be that big of a deal. He has to keep part of himself tied to his body, right?” At least, he hoped so. “Did you get a visual, by any chance?”

“Not much. I think I saw the Gate, and maybe my body, but other than that and getting my memories back there wasn’t anything.” Al paused. “Sorry. I know you wanted to see him.”

Edward sucked in a slow breath and didn’t reply.

“Do you miss him?” Al asked suddenly.

“Miss him?” _Of course I do. Weren’t you listening at all on the train today? I’ve always been there for him, just like second Ed’s been there for you. He’s family. It sounds dumb, and it probably is, but – how am I supposed to go on without that?_ “Nah,” he said out loud. “It’s only been a week. I can live that long by myself. And I’ve got you, right?”

“I see,” said Al, sounding vaguely skeptical. “I guess I don’t mind having two brothers for a bit.” He finished the last bandage. “Does it hurt anywhere else?”

Edward moved around a bit. “You got everything. Thanks.”

“No problem.” Al retreated a few steps and sat on his own bed a few feet away. Ed sat up and reached for the bowl of hospital food (what a delight) on the table. It was still… strange, somehow, talking to this Al. Edward couldn’t help but feel, as stupid as it was, that he was betraying his own brother – the one he almost felt tempted to call the _real_ Al – every time he stopped to talk to this one instead. There was an odd politeness hanging about the room without second Ed there to fill in the gaps. Maybe this Al felt it too.

“Hey, you don’t have to look so down,” Edward said, clearing his throat.

“I’m not _down_ ,” protested Al. “You wouldn’t be able to tell if I was, anyway.”

“Of course I could. That’s the same way you sat all those times in the kitchen when you had nightmares, back when we were kids. Right?”

Al thought for a second. “Yeah. That was a long time ago. I’ve almost forgotten what those dreams were like.” He gave a small, rueful laugh. “And Brother’d always make fun of me. I guess I deserved it.” Now that he thought about it, Edward did recall calling Al a whiny baby on more than one occasion.

_“Really, Al? This is the second night in a row.”_

_“Sorry... I just didn’t sleep well.”_

_“Nah, I know you were having bad dreams. It’s always like that, right?”_

_“Not_ always _. I’ve been doing better lately.”_

_“Funny, considering everything that’s happened – ”_

_“I know. You don’t have to say it.”_ Al had rubbed his eyes then and stood up unsteadily. _“I’ll go back to bed now. Thanks for worrying about me.”_

_“I’m not worrying! You need to grow up, that’s all. It’s just the two of us now.”_

_“Yeah.”_

_“And, uh… sleep better, okay? We’ve got a busy day tomorrow.”_

_“Mm-hmm. Good night.”_

In those days Edward hadn’t thought life could get any worse for him, but looking back it hadn’t been so bad. After all, they’d had their bodies and their house. And they’d had each other, too. Even here, he realized, even with his brother a hundred thousand miles away, he wasn’t alone. He had someone – a second brother, perhaps not his own, but a brother all the same – a brother who deserved to be loved.

“Oh, second Edward was just being mean,” he said to Al now, grinning suddenly. He took a deep breath and said in the most colonel-ish voice he could muster, “To Alphonse Elric, my brother, sort of, I say on behalf of second Ed my doppelganger, because he’ll never say it himself, that I am very, very sorry for being mean to him when he had nightmares back then.”

“Apology accepted,” Al replied very seriously. They sat silent for a second, holding their composure perfectly straight, before collapsing into giggles. It was one of those times when even the absolute unfunniest jokes (and this was without a doubt an unfunny joke) could make them laugh for minutes on end. Edward, half doubled over with laughter, tried vainly to sit up but instead splattered half-chewed peas on the wall and fell back onto the bed. Al got up to help him but ended up tripping on a bump in the carpet and knocking his own helmet halfway across the room. This, of course, only made them laugh that much harder.

Edward finally came to a stop what seemed like an eternity later. “That was nuts,” he gasped, wiping a few tears from his eyes.

 “I ran out of breath, and I don’t even have any to start with,” Al said sheepishly. “Why were we even laughing in the first place?”

“Dunno. You gotta admit, though, it’s a pretty brotherly thing to do.”

“Yeah, it really is.” Al put his helmet back on and settled down on his bed, which by now looked about as lumpish as Edward’s. “You know, I think I’ll stay the night.”

“Really? Shouldn’t you be at the hospital with your brother?”

“He’s got the colonel to keep him company. You don’t have anyone. I figured it’s only fair.”

“Suit yourself.” Edward pulled the blankets around him and tried to pretend like this wasn’t a big deal to him. “Guess I’ll go to bed now, then. It’s getting late.”

“’Kay.” Al got up and turned the lights off. “Good night, then?”

“Night, Al.” Edward rolled over and looked at the ceiling. The clack-clack of the fan slowed, and the harsh angles of the shadows on the wall beside him grew clear. The room was stuffy as always, but outside the night was cool. All in all, not a bad end to the day, Edward thought as he drifted off.

The armor clinked shyly again. “Um…”

He cracked an eye open. “What?”

“Do you want to clean the peas off the wall, or should I?”

Edward sighed loudly. Guess sleep would just have to wait.

 

A few blocks away, another Ed was recuperating in Central Hospital. Unfortunately, he wasn’t alone.

“So how are you feeling?” Mustang asked, sounding remarkably peppy considering he’d just survived a catastrophic explosion.

“I’m fine,” Ed grumped. “My automail arm’s down for the count, but other than that everything’s great. Isn’t it kind of obvious?”

Mustang made an offended noise. “I’m trying to be _polite_ and make _small talk_ , if you know what those words mean.”

“Ah, shut up. I can totally make small talk.” A total lie, but the colonel didn’t have to know that.

“That reminds me,” said Mustang briskly as he pulled himself into a sitting position. “You never quite finished explaining the situation with your… twin, or whomever.”

“How does small talk remind you of _that_?”

“Just answer the question!”

“You didn’t even ask a question!”

A nurse briefly poked her head through the door. “Could I ask you gentlemen to quiet down a little? We have some children sleeping across the hall.”

“Right, sorry.” Mustang pinched the bridge of his nose and very deliberately said, “In the name of all that is holy, just explain it, Fullmetal.”

Ed rolled his eyes. What a long day this was becoming. First the whole business on the train – he refused to think about that at the moment – and now this. “All right, all right,” he said. “So a week ago, Al and I were leaving Liore when suddenly this giant alchemical circle appeared under me. It was the same kind of circle as the one from – you know. The eye, the wiggly hands, the clouds, all that. Then we found the other Ed.”

“And you say he came here from… a parallel universe?” Mustang frowned. “I’ve never heard of such a thing outside of fairy tales.”

“Well, it’s true. He told us it was part of a scheme to get Al’s body back. His Al, I mean, not the one we know. Apparently, the Amestris he comes from is pretty much just like ours.”

“Fascinating.” Mustang considered this with a solemn expression on his face. “… So am I in it?”

“Um. Yeah? That’s not the point, though – ”

“But am I any good?” He still looked completely serious. “Did I do anything important?”

It was Ed’s turn to perform a facepalm. “Don’t ask me!” he cried. “For all I know, you’re six feet under. Or you’re the Fuhrer. Can I please go on?”

“Yes, yes, continue.”

“So when we went to Dublith, we met our old teacher there, and she did some stuff to Al’s blood seal. That… uh, I’m not totally sure, but… anyway, he can do alchemy without a circle now, like me. And he might possibly have a mental link to the version of him on the other side.”

“I’m not sure I understand,” Mustang interjected.

“Neither do I. Well, around the same time, we encountered a homunculus from the other world who tried to attack us – that was the serpent you told us to get – but then the homunculi from _this_ world dragged him off before he could get the drop on us. Still not sure why.” Suddenly he remembered what he’d been about to tell the colonel earlier. “Oh, that’s right! One of the homunculi is Ki –”

The window suddenly creaked, making them both jump. “Something’s outside,” Mustang said in a low voice, rising out of the bed. _No way, not right now,_ Ed thought, sweat beading on his forehead. His automail arm was nothing more than a hunk of junk at the moment, and he really, _really_ didn’t want to go up against Envy or Scar again.

The pane was pushed open, and a shadowy figure stepped through the window. It was… the Fuhrer?

“Hello, boys!” King Bradley boomed, dusting off his jacket. Had he been out there all that time? How much had he heard? “How are you doing tonight?”

“Uh – very well,” stammered the colonel, lowering himself back down. “Excuse me, sir, but what are you doing here?”

Bradley laughed, managing to make the sound both hearty and ominous. _That_ took talent. Then again, Ed supposed the man had quite a bit of experience being evil. “Oh, just out for an evening stroll. It’s rather difficult getting away from my bodyguards, you know!” He turned his gaze to Ed, who was still quite frozen with shock. “I thought I’d drop in and check on my two best State Alchemists. Wouldn’t want them getting hurt, you see.”

He narrowed his one eye slightly. “Speaking of injuries, I hear you were involved in the explosion this afternoon.”

“It’ll be in the report,” Ed mumbled, shifting uneasily. Why was the Fuhrer after him? He’d thought the homunculi already knew everything.

“Oh, I’m not asking for details. I just happen to have some news for you.” Bradley tapped his chin. “That explosion wasn’t a gas leak – it was caused by Scar. He was trying to attack the city, and he ended up burying himself in the sewers. We’ve made sure he’s done for.”

That didn’t seem right at all, but Ed couldn’t fathom a motive for the Fuhrer – or even the leader of the homunculi – lying to them like this. “He’s dead? Are… are you sure?”

“Absolutely. From now on, you’ve got nothing to worry about.” After a short pause, Bradley turned to go. “One last remark. If you happen to come across anything big, it’d be wise to keep it to yourself.” His voice dropped low. “You’re surrounded by enemies, after all. Stay quiet and you’ll be safe. Or saf _er_ , I should say.”

Ed gulped; the Fuhrer’s gaze was pointed straight at him. This must be a warning, then: keep the colonel out of this, or we’ll do to him what we did to Scar just now. Ha! Too late for that.

Muffled voices sounded outdoors. “Have you seen the Fuhrer around here?” “Think he went this way…” “Okay, check the north side – ” “This happens all the time, dangit!”

Bradley cocked his head and then laughed again as he made for the window. “Looks like the game’s up, I’m afraid. Well, stay out of trouble, boys, you hear? Good night!” An agile leap into the branches, and he was gone.

“What was that all about?” said Mustang after a few seconds.

Ed opened his mouth to tell him once and for all who Fuhrer King Bradley really was – and stopped. Bradley wanted Ed alive, he knew, but no one had ever said anything about Roy Mustang.

_You’re surrounded by enemies_ , he’d said.

“Well?” Mustang demanded.

Ed flopped over on his side. “Beats me.”

 

Al leaned back against the wall. It was a little past midnight, he reckoned, and he’d already finished his daily maintenance. He’d oiled his joints back up to what they’d been before the explosion, and his armor was positively sparkling. Lately he’d been rushing himself with the cleaning – he wasn’t sure why, really. It wasn’t as if he had anything to do at this time of day.

Dust floated lazily through the room, lit by the dim moonlight filtering through the window. Al watched each particle fall slowly down to the puddle of light in his lap. It was a familiar activity to him, watching dust at night. Either that or playing solitaire. Or whittling chalk. Or polishing his feet. Or rereading _Alchemical Circles: Draw Them Perfectly Every Time!_. Or…

Al was all too aware how inane this half of his life was. Nights were lonesome, and a sad reminder of everything he’d lost, but most of all they were just plain boring _._ If Al could have gone back in time and told his younger self that in the future he’d be spending eight hours every day staring at _dust_ of all things, he’d probably get a laugh in his face for his trouble. Well, he’d come a long way since then.

He looked over at the disheveled blond boy haphazardly laid out on the bed across the room. The other Ed was snoring just fine at the moment, but every now and then he’d jerk, or say something in his sleep – “I’m sorry”, “Al, no”, “I promise”, “help me” and other cheerful things like that. The usual, in other words. It’d been like this for the past week.

Al still wasn’t sure exactly what to think about the other Ed. He wasn’t like the brother Al had known all his life, not really; there were times when Al would say something to him, expecting one response, and then get something else entirely. ( _The real Amestris,_ he’d said today. Al had swallowed the hurt he’d felt then, but it wasn’t gone.) Still, he felt a kind of bond between them. A friendship, maybe. A brotherly sort of thing. They’d laughed for ages just now about some joke so bad Al couldn’t even recall it; wasn’t that something only brothers could do?

And, more than anything else, the other Ed just looked so lonely all the time. Whenever the three of them rode the train, he’d sit by himself on the seat opposite Ed and Al and stare blankly out the window as if he couldn’t bear to see the two of them for more than a second. Even now, whimpering to himself in the middle of some bad dream, it seemed like there was something _missing_ from him. He looked like one of those lost little kittens Al had used to pick up on rainy days. How could you _not_ be friends with someone like that? Kittens were so cute and sweet and adorable and –

 Al was interrupted in the midst of his feline fantasies by a strange sensation: a vague prickling, as it were, on the back of what would have been his neck. Except, of course, it wasn’t a strange sensation at all anymore. _Other Al!_

He emptied his mind of kittens and brothers as quickly as he could in preparation for what Ed had dubbed Elric Telepathy, which, as much as he hated to say it, was probably an accurate name. _Okay, focus, focus, get to the Gate. Gate. Get there._ He felt it again, a little stronger, and now it was definitely familiar. It was just as he’d told the other Ed; he knew the soul nearing him was his own, but it was… different, in a way.

He tried to form his thoughts into coherent sentences. _I’m Al. That’s your brother over there._ _He’s fine, don’t worry._ There was no response that he could discern, just a confused torrent of energy building up in his mind like a bad headache. Al realized he could pick out a few distant things, perhaps an emotion here or there if he really tried, but they were all swept up in the vast whirlwind. _JfnightbrotherrfsjsneunderstandwjejrmnsfsleepjwenAlphonsewmehmm…_ He wanted to tell the other Al to calm down a bit, but it was quite clear that that was beyond his ability. Maybe this was just the way human brains worked.

After a second or two, the presence abruptly disappeared, leaving Al by himself in his body again. The room seemed strangely large all of a sudden, and he dimly felt as if he’d lost something. Across the room, the other Ed moved a little in his sleep. “Al… mmph… don’t go…” he mumbled, and then rolled over on his side. The soft sound of his blanket rustling was like a thunderclap in the heavy silence.

Now Al was the one who felt lonely. But no point getting sad about that; nights were always lonely. He settled back down on the bed and watched the dust fall.

 

Scar limped through the sewers, clutching his arm. Blood trailed behind him every step of the way. _Those… those abominations…_ There had been a black-haired woman and a squat, round creature. He was sure he’d never seen them before – he’d have recalled such awful beings – but they were out to kill him, of that he was sure, and they were deadlier than any Amestrian soldier. He’d managed to collapse a section of the wall and escape in the chaos, but by then it had already been too late.

He glanced down at his right arm. Five square inches of skin had been neatly gouged out by those demonic claws right as he had fled. Five square inches of his brother’s precious markings, and he had no idea how to bring them back. He bowed his head, feeling the terrible truth bear down on him: it was over. His arm would never again release its power.

With that mysterious force behind him, he was a man of justice. Without it, what was he? Just a man, an insane murderer on the run. All those promises for vengeance, all those nights spent crying out to the great god Ishvara – for nothing. He felt sick. _I failed you, Brother,_ he thought, and almost choked on his own tears.

He stumbled with a gasp and landed hard on his side. For a while he lay there, overcome by pain, wondering what to do. The woman and her pet would be back soon, he was sure; them, or the State Alchemists. It didn’t matter which, really. With his wounds like this, he was a dead man walking. The musty ceiling floated in and out of view as he looked up at it, and he felt (or perhaps imagined) himself lying in a bed of his own blood. His own blood, and the blood of the people he’d killed.

There was a sound, and he rolled over, struggling to stand. There it was again – a footstep, quick and quiet. Another. Another. He stiffened as a shadowed form bent over him, holding a tiny flame. A little girl, it looked like, or perhaps a devil, come to finish him off.

“Are you all right?” she asked, her high voice echoing faintly in the close air.

“Who… who are you?”

The girl pulled him into a sitting position and set the candle on the floor, casting light into the mossy crevices of the tunnel. She really was just a small child, he realized ruefully, seeing her long dark braids and strange pink outfit.

“I come from a country to the east,” she said, executing a small bow. “My name is Mei Chang.”


	7. Sun and Shadow

**AMESTRIS-2**

The sun was shining over Central Hospital, and as Winry walked up to the front doors she  could hear the lively hum of morning traffic coming to life. The city wasn’t quite as nice as Resembool, what with the crowds and cobblestones everywhere one looked, but Winry had to admit it wasn’t all bad.

This situation, on the other hand – not so much.

“Can I help you?” said the receptionist inside.

Winry attempted a smile without much success. “Hi, I’m here to visit Edward Elric.”

“Oh, that’s right, you must be his mechanic.” The woman flipped through her ledger. “He’s in room F212. That’ll be up the stairs to your left.”

“Thanks.” Winry trudged away, trying not to yawn. She still couldn’t believe she’d woken up at four a.m. just to come all the way out here and fix Ed’s arm. He hadn’t even bothered to tell her what had happened. Just “oh, I’m in the hospital and my arm’s busted, but really it’s fine, Al’s fine, you know how it is. See you tomorrow! Bye!”

Winry rolled her eyes but couldn’t resist a small smile. That was Ed, all right – too busy with his adventuring, or whatever, to notice anything else. There were times (like _right now_ ) when she’d just about had it with these Elrics and their silly antics, but… if she had to be honest with herself, she rather liked it.

The stairs came to an end in the middle of a long, brightly lit hallway lined with identical white doors. Winry squinted at a sign tacked to the wall. _2 nd Floor: Wing A, Left. Wing E, Ahead. _Somehow, despite having been here half a dozen times before, she’d managed to get herself lost. Great.

She hefted her toolbox and turned to go – and crashed into a giant metal breastplate that had been in the process of rounding the corner.

“Winry! Uh, what a surprise!”

“Al?” she stammered when she recovered her wits. “And Ed, too! Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

Ed coughed, looking rather shifty. His hair was down, and he was clutching an odd clump of curly brown fabric in his hand. A wig? “That, um, I… uh…” he mumbled.

“It’s nice to see you!” Al said hurriedly. “We – we didn’t expect you to be here so early, that’s all.”

Winry squinted at them suspiciously. “Okay, what’s going on?”

No one answered. “Should we tell her?” Ed whispered in Al’s direction.

“Dunno, maybe it’d be better to ask Brother first – ”

She cleared her throat loudly, making them jump. “I’m waiting…”

Ed and Al traded a nervous glance. “Okay, okay, you caught us,” Ed said finally, crossing his arms. His automail, she noticed, was in perfect working order. “To tell you the truth, I, um, I’m not actually Ed. Well, not the one you’re looking for.”

“ _What?_ ”

Al made an echoing sigh. “Here we go again.”

 

They led her to a room on the other side of the building, where she found the _actual_ Ed, along with a dark-haired man she vaguely recalled as Colonel Roy Mustard. Wait, no – Mustang.

“You must be Miss Rockbell,” he said, shaking her hand. “Pleasure to meet you. I see Fullmetal here really lucked out.”

The Ed sitting on the bed blushed furiously, as did the one standing behind her. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he demanded.

Winry coughed and pretended she hadn’t heard anything. “So,” she said, giving both boys a fearsome glare, “I hear you’ve cloned yourself.”

Ed winced. “Uh… it’s not really like that. And – ” here he looked pointedly at Al and the other Ed “ – _that_ was supposed to be a secret.”

“It was an accident!” Al protested. “I was showing other Brother to the water fountain and we bumped into her, that’s all!”

“You’re treating it like it’s a bad thing,” Winry grumbled, bending over to detach Ed’s arm. “I can’t believe you. I get a call at eleven last night, all ‘boo-hoo, my arm broke’, and then I rush over here and you’ve summoned your identical twin. And then you plan to keep me in the dark about it. Typical.”

“We’d like to tell you everything,” Ed said quickly, “but there’s a lot going on. Actually, we spent ages debating on whether to tell the colonel here about the Fuhrer – ”

“Oh, so you told _him_?”

“Wait, no, that’s not – uh – ”

Al gave the bed a not-so-subtle kick, quickly shutting Ed up. “What he _means_ is that we’re in a lot of danger. There are people who might try to kill you if they see you with us. Possibly including King Bradley.”

That dampened her nerve a little. This stuff must be bad if they had the government after them. “Still,” she blustered, “that’s no reason to keep quiet. What if you hadn’t said anything, and the Fuhrer… I don’t know… kidnapped me or something? Like a hostage?”

Ed snorted. “Sounds like Al’s not the only one reading dime novels.”

“Hey!” Al cried before quickly composing himself. “Anyway, Winry’s right. We might as well get the explaining over with now, while’s she’s working on the arm.”

“Uh-huh.” The other Ed sat down on the edge of the bed. “So… short version. About a week ago, I was in my own world trying to get my brother’s body back. And, well, I ended up here.”

Winry pondered this as she dug around for a spare screw. “And your world is just like this one?”

“More or less. The main problem is that I was followed by another guy, and he’s teaming up with some _other_ guys, and basically we have to stop them before bad stuff happens. Oh, and the thing yesterday was just an explosion in the sewers. Really, that’s it.”

“Somehow, I have a feeling that’s not ‘it’,” Winry muttered. It had only been a minute, but she felt in over her head already. Automail was one thing; here, she was useless. “So what are you going to do, then?”

“We were talking about that before you showed up,” said Al. “Something about a laboratory…”

“Yeah, the Fifth Laboratory here in Central,” said the other Ed. “In my world, the homunculi – those are the bad guys, Winry, they’re pretty much immortal – used it as a base. Even if they’re not doing that here, we can check it out and see what they’re up to.”

“Sounds like a good plan,” said Al. “How did it go when you went in before?”

“Um – it was kind of a bust,” the other Ed admitted. “But that was just me and Al, and we got separated too. Now that we’ve got four people, it should be a bit easier. Right?”

Weak words if you asked Winry, but Ed and Al nodded with that determined look she had come to know well. “Right.” They paused, waiting for a third affirmation, and turned to the other bed, where Colonel Mustang was… taking a nap. To be honest, she’d forgotten he was even there.

“Oh, whatever,” sighed the other Ed. “We can talk specifics this afternoon. You guys want me to get lunch?”

Ed perked up immediately. “Yeah, of course! I’m starving!”

Meanwhile, Winry found she was missing the screw she needed. “I’ll go too,” she said. “I need to pick up some parts.”

They left, leaving Ed, Al, and the dozing colonel behind, and walked down the hallway. It was oddly quiet, and the other Ed’s façade of cheer seemed to have disappeared frighteningly quickly. Winry stopped him at the head of the stairs and lowered her voice. “Are you… are you sure about this? That lab place doesn’t sound like good news.”

“It isn’t,” he replied quietly, “but there’s no other choice. I’ll do what I can.” Suddenly he was a completely different person – older, certainly, and emptier.

“There’s always another choice,” she said immediately, feeling righteously indignant despite the fact that she frankly knew nothing about the situation. “Whatever the problem is with the two worlds, it’ll work out. You don’t need to kill yourself over it, do you?”

The other Ed turned away. “That’s what he’d say.”

Winry didn’t know who _he_ was – Ed, maybe, or Al, or another Al – but it didn’t really matter. She couldn’t take it any longer. For all that they had the same face, this Ed was nearly a stranger to her.

“Well, I don’t know what made you like _this_ ,” she cried, “but I can’t believe you’d let it take you that far.”

“That – I – ” He faltered, looking caught between anger and sheer weariness.

“If you’re not going to hope, you might as well give up now. And I know you’re not going to do that, because you’re Ed. So – so start acting like him!”

The other Ed blinked, his mouth hanging open slightly. Winry wondered if she’d gone too far.

“Sorry, I just…”

“No, you’re right,” he mumbled. “I’m not like this Ed, and we both know it. He doesn’t even really trust me.” Then he looked up, meeting her gaze. There was something unfathomable in his eyes – a hard fire, distant perhaps, but burning all the same. “You’re wrong on one thing, though. I’ve got hope. I’ve fought these guys before, and I’m pretty sure I won. So don’t worry about the lab, okay? I’ll figure something out.”

_He’s lying_ , Winry thought. _Just a little, but he’s lying._ She forced a grin. “Okay.”

 

Every time Edward looked at her, all he could see was another Winry. Another Winry, with the same face and the same name, waiting for him back home. _I haven’t even thought about her once_ , he realized, feeling a little sick. _Hope… that’s all I’ve got now, I guess._

They went down the stairs in silence.

 

It was morning, but here in the sewers the shadows always fell long. Even after fearlessly thwarting half a dozen assassination attempts back in Xing, Mei found the atmosphere unnerving (not to mention smelly). Her fingers had a metallic whiff to them after hours of clenching her throwing knives – technically they were only to be used for alkahestry, but in a place like this she was willing to loosen up. _If only Xiao-Mei were here…_

Mei glanced back and saw the strange man limping several steps behind her, still clutching his right arm. She’d done the best she’d could on short notice, but it hadn’t been quite enough.

“This shantytown,” he rasped. “What kind of place is it?”

She knew what he was really asking: if he was going to get stabbed in the back there. “If you’re careful, I think you’ll be safe,” she replied, slowing her pace. “There’s plenty of people there. I’ve seen a lot who look like you. Tan, red eyes.”

The man – Scar, he called himself – stopped dead in his tracks. “I can’t face them,” he said in a low voice. “Not now.”

 Mei wondered if the fellow was quite right in the head. “What’s wrong?”

He looked away and didn’t answer for a long while, instead tracing his strange arm tattoo with his finger. “Never mind,” he said finally. “Just thinking out loud.”

They continued walking. The monotonous clip-clap of their footsteps, heavy and light, was nearly enough to drive her mad – that and the putrid water inching sluggishly by alongside them. Finally Mei broke the silence.

“Excuse me, but if you don’t mind me asking, what brought you to the sewers?” she blurted out. Her gaze traveled to Scar’s arm wound. Even after her impromptu healing, it looked more like a series of gouges. “I’m guessing it wasn’t pleasant.”

“I was… in a fight,” he replied in a rather strangled voice. “There was an explosion involved.”

“That was you?” she gasped. “I felt the blast three blocks away!” This man was getting stranger and stranger. “So you’re an alchemist, then?”

Scar’s shoulders hunched abruptly, and for a moment his red eyes blazed with reflected candlelight. She immediately regretted her words. “I’m sorry, I didn’t – ”

“No… no, forget it.” He shrunk, or seemed to, until he was just a battered wanderer again. Once again his finger touched the tattoo. There was something different about it, she realized, following the loops and curves of the black marks with her eyes; it was some sort of transmutation circle. But with that injury breaking the conduit, its days had probably come to an end. Suddenly Scar’s morose disposition made much more sense.

He was still standing there, trembling, holding his arm with some sort of reverence. “I… I wasn’t an alchemist,” he whispered at last. “But this – ” he chuckled bitterly, sending sad echoes through the cavernous tunnel “ – this was alchemy. Everything I did… it was alchemy after all.”

Mei stared at him, trying to decide if she should run or not. After a few seconds, he shook his head and stalked onwards, seeming to regain some semblance of sanity. She hurried to catch up, holding the candle aloft. “Are you really all right?” she asked timidly.

“More or less,” he rumbled. “Your… alkahestry saved me. I suppose I should thank you.”

Bit late for that. “Er – you’re welcome?” she stammered.

Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but she could have sworn she saw a tiny smile on Scar’s face. “Strange to see a little girl down here,” he continued.

Mei considered telling him about her quest for the Philosopher’s Stone, but it was probably better to save that for later. “I’m looking for my pet panda,” she said instead.

Scar’s brow furrowed, and she remembered that Amestris, to its shame, had no pandas. “They’re like big black-and-white bears,” she clarified. “Mine is more like a little cat, though.” The tragedy of it all came crashing down on her. How, _how_ had she gotten separated from Xiao-Mei? And right on top of an open manhole in Amestris’ largest city, too? Of all the horrible things to happen…

“A cat, huh?” Scar grunted. “I used to have one. When I was your age.”

Mei blinked, wondering if she’d heard right, and decided not to risk a response. It seemed she’d gotten the mysterious man to open up. _Score one for Clan Chang_ , she thought triumphantly.

                                               

Envy yawned and tried in vain to get comfortable on the board where he’d been pinned for the past two (or was it three?) days. The lair was nearly empty; Father had gone off a few hours ago to do… whatever it was that immortal Hohenheim-lookalikes did in their spare time. Maybe a pub hit or something. The only ones left behind were Lust and Gluttony, who’d been put on mop duty after failing to kill Scar. Hah. Served them right.

He scanned the room; there they were over in the corner, scrubbing down the pipes. He could feel Lust’s dark eyes on him. It’d been some time now, but he kept expecting her to turn around and start spouting all that stuff about humans and Scar’s brother and dear old Lujon and everything else she’d used to whine about. This Lust, it seemed, had absolutely none of those concerns. And Gluttony was the same idiot he’d always been. How boring. Just like this jumped-up senior citizen they were following around.

_Once I’m through with my sacrifices, I’ll let you do what you want with them_. It was a tempting offer, but Envy didn’t believe it for a second. He had experience with deranged Stone-obsessed maniacs, and they never followed through on their promises. Dante hadn’t bothered him too much, but this Father guy was actively trying to _protect_ the Elrics and their stupid friends. Unbelievable.

Envy had already laid his plans. He’d play along for a bit, get the old codger and his goons to think he was on their side, maybe even drop some helpful hints about his home world. That part didn’t matter much; Father’s plan didn’t concern him in the least. A few million souls here and there, whatever. But as soon as he got the chance, he’d cut and run. A disgraceful move, certainly, but, well, his name was Envy, not Upstanding Loyalty. He’d come here for a reason, and now was the time to finish the job.

He glanced down at the spear stuck through his chest. It kept him from moving or shapeshifting, which was a bother, but by doing some painful wriggling he’d been able to get it to loosen a bit. That had taken some of the pressure off his red stone’s regeneration energy. With some luck, he might even be able to break out without any plan at all.

“What are you looking at?” growled Lust from across the room. “Thinking about escaping, huh?”

“Of course not,” Envy replied, affecting his usual bravado. He’d have to watch himself around her. “Don’t you have work to do?”

“Very funny.” She leaned on her mop, squinting at him. “Are all the homunculi in your world as crazy as you?”

Envy blew a strand of green hair out of his face with casual ease. “Everyone there is crazy,” he said. “Is that really what you wanted to know?”

There was a pause as they stared each other down. Finally Lust turned away, shaking her head. “I’m done with you,” she muttered. “Don’t know what Father was thinking, recruiting nutjobs like this…”

Envy smirked and watched her shadow recede into the darkness beyond. _This place isn’t so bad after all_ , he thought.

 

**AMESTRIS-1**

Izumi woke early, as always. The other side of the bed had been recently vacated; it seemed Sig had gone out to get groceries. Good man. Izumi yawned, got into her fluffy bathrobe, and made her way to the living room.

Al had volunteered to sleep on the sofa last night, but his legs had slid off onto the floor at some point, leaving him in a rather amusing state of disarray. Izumi found it hard to resist chuckling. Kids were kids.

She caught sight of something clutched in his hand and gently pried it from his grasp. It was a wrinkled photograph, several years old. She squinted at it in the dim light; it was a shot of eleven-year-old Ed, grinning and waving, sitting on Al’s shoulders in the midst of a field. It seemed nice. Not a particularly special moment, as far as Izumi could tell, but she’d never been privy to the inner thoughts of these boys.

Izumi left it in Al’s lap and went to the kitchen, where she found a small puddle of milk on the counter. She frowned in disapproval and wiped it up. Al must have gotten up in the middle of the night again. He’d done that a few times in the past, years ago, but after all this time she’d nearly forgotten. The old Al had probably forgotten too, since after all he hadn’t needed to sleep. _But it’s recent history to this one_ , she reminded herself. _To him it’s only been a month or so since he and Ed were here studying with me._ That was a strange thought.

She busied herself with the coffeepot, trying and failing to distract herself, only to hear familiar footsteps behind her. “Morning, Al,” she called without bothering to turn around. “Ready for sparring practice today?”

“Er… yeah,” he replied, scratching his head. “Where’s Sig?”

“Went to the market. He’ll be back soon.” Izumi turned and found Al half-dozing at the table. A corner of the photograph peeked out from his pocket. “I presume you didn’t rest well.”

Al hurriedly sat up and arranged his hair into a somewhat more presentable shape. “What? No, I’m totally fine – ”

Izumi raised an eyebrow. “For some reason, I don’t quite believe that.”

“Okay, okay…” Al looked up at her and took a deep breath. “I did a meditation last night. But it was worth it! I got another vision! It was evening, and we were in a room with two beds, and I could see Brother sleeping across from me, and – and – ”

“You know you shouldn’t be trying things like that by yourself.” Izumi folded her arms, giving him a stern glare.

“I know, but – ”

She softened her gaze, seeing Al’s slightly pouty expression. “Well, I can’t say I’m not proud. You’re quite talented, to pull off something like that on only your second time.”

“It wasn’t that hard,” he admitted. “It’s like I’m being pulled. I end up there even when I’m not trying to.”

Izumi poured herself some coffee and sat down across from him. “We’ve already been over this. Your missing memories are attracting your soul to the Gate.”

“They’re not.” Al paused. “Well, maybe they are, but… none of the things I’ve been seeing are memories.”

“Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure. In both of the visions I got, I could hear my own voice talking to me. Asking me things. It was like a conversation with someone else.”

“Odd,” Izumi murmured. She’d had plenty of experience with transmuting souls, enough for a lifetime, but _this_ was even farther out of the ordinary. “You’re right. A real memory shouldn’t be quite as – active.” She sighed, absently twirling her braids. “What a mystery this is becoming.”

“Then we’re gonna get to the bottom of it!” Al cried, his eyes shining. “Wherever these visions are coming from, that’s where Brother is. I just need to research more – can I skip sparring today, Teacher? Pleeeeease?”

“Absolutely not,” she replied, preparing to launch into a rant. Then she saw that silly look on his face, so full of confidence and unbridled cheer, and stopped.

It was strange, somehow. This Al was the same boy she’d known, certainly; some things never changed. But whatever he’d lost these past four years – those nightly sojourns to the kitchen, those pleading puppy-dog eyes, that look of sheer _optimism_  – it was back. No, more than that: to this Al, those things had never left in the first place.

_I’m not his mother_ , Izumi reminded herself. _His problems aren’t my business._ It wasn’t a teacher’s job to encourage her students’ wild aspirations. She ought to keep Al grounded, tell him that Ed probably wouldn’t be coming back… but damn it all, that starry-eyed look was ruinous.

Al was still gazing up at her expectantly. “You’re still going to have sparring practice today,” she said aloud, letting the mean glower slide for a bit, “but I’ll consider… shortening it a little. How does that sound?”

“Yes!” Al whooped, jumping up and throwing his arms around her. She stiffened slightly in surprise, but he didn’t seem to notice. _Not his mother_ , she thought again. _Not his mother._

_Most of the time, anyway._

They were still hugging when Sig came back.

 

The silver watch still lay on the corner of Winry’s work table. She hadn’t touched it since Al’s departure. There wasn’t any need to, after all – the story was over, wasn’t it? Life was back to normal. Al was ten again, but he seemed all right. Amestris was safe.

It was silly to keep looking back – to cry over one person when everything was finally the way it should be. She hadn’t cried since that day, either. But she still hoped.

_Don’t forget._


	8. The Fifth Laboratory

**AMESTRIS-1**

_The possibility of parallel universes has long been considered by preeminent scholars of the Neo-Transmutationist school, despite the “impecunious nature” of early experimentation (Shaw, 544). However, it may be argued that the greater interest has lain with spiritualists. In 1798, an anonymous mystic claimed he had “traversed the emptinesse” and later spoke of a land he named Cselkcess, or Xerxes according to some accounts (Tringham, 192). Multiple others throughout Amestris’ history have also… have also witnessed… also…_

Al rubbed his eyes. The words on the page were starting to blend together. How long had he been reading this thing? A few hours? It felt more like a few days.

“Teacher, I don’t think this is helping,” he said, shutting the enormous tome.

Izumi glared at him over the top of her own oversized textbook. “I seem to recall a certain someone saying he wanted to spend the whole day researching. Hmm, I wonder who that was?”

She knew him way too well. “This book doesn’t make any sense,” Al barreled on, undeterred. “It’s all spirity stuff. I was kind of hoping I could meditate more – ”

“We’ve been over this,” said Izumi impatiently. “Now that we know for a fact these aren’t ordinary memories, I don’t want you going back there until we find out more. These books may seem ridiculous, but they’re hardly more absurd than your current situation.”

That was a good point, Al had to admit. “But, but this is going to take forever!” he said. “I’m tired of having no memories. I want to be the person I used to be.” He realized how pathetic he sounded. “A-and… what if someone figures out I’m four years too young? They could have me and Brother arrested for human transmutation, couldn’t they?”

Izumi put down her book and sat back, folding her arms. “I don’t think you need to worry about that. If those military morons didn’t realize you were a walking suit of armor all this time, they’re hardly going to take notice of you now.” She leveled a stern gaze at Al. “I know those calls have been bothering you, but this isn’t the time to fret about it.”

In the days since Al’s arrival in Dublith, there had been a veritable stream of telephone calls from Central. Mr. Fuery, Miss Sheska, Mr. Havoc… It was hard to remember the names, but he had a vague sense that they were all supposed to be his friends. He wanted to know them again – talk to them, reminisce about old adventures, tell bad jokes, clink goblets, do _whatever_ it was adults did when they talked – but he was a ten-year-old amnesiac, and that was the plain truth.

Sometimes he could put it out of his mind, forget that this was 1915 and that he was only two-thirds of a person, but other times he couldn’t.

“That’s not it,” he said aloud to Izumi. “I just – I want to research, I really do, but this stuff makes me want to fall asleep.”

 “So?” She raised an eyebrow. “What exactly do you want, then?”

_I want to see Brother again._ If Ed were here, all of Al’s problems would go away. He was sure of it. There wasn’t anything his brother couldn’t do, and _that_ was another plain truth.

He didn’t say that. It sounded childish, and anyway, with the amount of time this project was going to take, he ought to get used to being alone.

“Never mind, Teacher,” he mumbled, and opened the book again.

 

The day wore on and melted quietly into night. Al stayed up late, valiantly trying to squeeze some salient information out of the balderdash that was this book, but nothing much was forthcoming. Perhaps tomorrow would be a better day.

Al was settling into the couch where he slept, thinking about the odd dreams that were sure to trouble him again, when he heard a crackling sound under his pillow. It was a bundle of yellowed newspaper clippings from years past. He pulled them out, furrowing his eyebrows at the headlines.

_‘FULLMETAL’ TAKES YOUSWELL BY STORM_

_YOUNGEST STATE ALCHEMIST! EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW_

_ELRIC BROTHERS VOTED BEST ALCHEMISTS BY PEOPLE’S WEEKLY_

_ODDBALL PRODIGIES STRIKE AGAIN_

It seemed like Izumi had been keeping these for quite some time. (And he knew for a fact this was her doing, though he’d never dare to say it out loud.) Most were annotated with disparaging remarks towards the military and/or Ed and Al themselves.

There was a brief note pinned to the stack. “Thought you might like these,” it read. That was all. It was very apparent that Al’s attempts at brushing off his worries had been noticed, and, more to the point, found lacking.

Unable to hold back a smile, Al set the clippings aside – it was late, and thoughts of past and future were quite beyond him at this hour. Last of all he turned out the lights, but not before digging out the (by now rather wrinkled) photograph Winry had given him and laying it on top. “I guess this can be my memory stash,” he said to himself, feeling a sense of pride that was silly and yet unexpectedly reassuring. “Until Brother comes back.”

His dreams that night were a confused mass of shadows, and cobwebs, and musty tunnels, and a fire that burned in the dark. 

**AMESTRIS-2**

Winry watched as the ragtag trio and their equally ragtag colonel prepared to leave for the Fifth Laboratory.

“Got your watch?”

“Yeah. You?”

“’Course. Joints okay, Al?”

“Mhm.”

“Gloves?”

“Three pairs, naturally.”

The banter continued endlessly. Winry stared at her hands, which were resting quite comfortably in her lap, doing nothing much at all. She was used to worrying about the boys, but always from a distance. In the quiet of Resembool, it was hard to imagine anything ever going wrong. Here in the grimy hustle-bustle of the big city, the danger was all too near.

Not that they cared. Sweet little Al, stupid alchemy freak Ed, gloomy world-weary other Ed – this was all old hat to them, and her rising nerves felt almost like a betrayal. It wasn’t like _she_ was going to risk her life. _She_ was going to sit here and do, well… nothing much at all. For a brief moment, Winry felt horribly useless. She tried to let the feeling pass – no point moping around, after all – but it clung on stubbornly.

“So, are you all ready?” she said at last, standing and folding her arms authoritatively.

 The four looked each other up and down. “Seems like it,” Ed said cheerfully.

_Can’t you ever take this seriously?_ she wanted to scream. Instead she grinned and gave them a thumbs-up as they filed out of the hospital room. “I’ll be rooting for you! Go get ‘em!”

They all grinned back. Even the colonel offered her his (by now) familiar charming smile. “Bye, Winry!” Al called from the hallway.

The other Ed was last out, and she caught him by the wrist. “Hey…” she said, dropping the façade for a moment. “Keep them safe, okay?”

He blushed and pulled away. “Yeah, I will. Don’t worry.” And with that, he was gone.

Winry let her hand fall to her side. The sun was falling, and the empty room was draped in shades of bruised violet. Nothing to do now but wait.

 

The light of the little candle was searing itself into Mei’s eyeballs. She and Scar had been wandering around the sewers for the better part of a day, with little more than Mei’s animal crackers (the new fad, apparently) to sustain them. No sign of the shantytown. No sign of the Philosopher’s Stone. And worst of all, no sign of Xiao-Mei.

“If you want to leave, you can,” Mei said eventually, looking guiltily back at the stalwart mystery man. Scar didn’t look _worse_ , exactly, and he wasn’t clutching his arm anymore, but he certainly didn’t look _better._ “It looks like we’ll be here for a while.”

“I don’t have anywhere else to go,” he replied, growly as usual. Something else seemed to be plaguing him now, but she couldn’t hazard a guess as to what. They plodded on.

Then, suddenly, she heard a squeak in the darkness. It was faint and nearly drowned out by their footsteps, but it was there. “Did you hear that?” she cried excitedly.

“Hear what – ”

“My panda!” she crowed, setting off at a jog despite her protesting feet. “I’m coming, Xiao-Mei! Wait for me!”

 

Al had always liked that time of day between sunset and moonrise. The sky seemed alive with color, and the first few stars were twinkling, but distantly, as if they were afraid to come too close. It was comforting, somehow. Even as he and the others raced down side streets and abandoned alleys, the sky was with them, following them from above.

 But then they came within sight of the Fifth Laboratory, and the light disappeared in the blink of an eye. The building seemed like something straight out of his old dime novels – boarded-up doors, cracked concrete walls, rusty barbed wire, and a hard wind from the north. The creaky gate shuddered in the breeze. Al swallowed his trepidation. They’d seen worse, right? Right?

There was a guard posted at the front. “That’s not suspicious in the least,” Ed whispered grumpily. “Anyway, how do we get in?”

The other Ed pointed to the wall. “We’ll go over the side. It’ll be a bit rough for you, Colonel, but I think you can take it.”

He clambered up on Al’s shoulders and jumped off, landing on the top of the wall; Ed and Mustang followed. There they untied some barbed wire and lowered it down to Al as a rope of sorts. Soon the four were safely inside the yard.

Al looked around; the front door to the lab was shut up just as tight as he’d expected. “Now what?”

The other Ed thought for a moment. “There’s a vent somewhere around here that second Ed and I should be able to fit into, because we’re – uh – ” he struggled to form the words “ – on the small side.”

Ed grimaced and pointedly avoided looking at the colonel, who was stifling a snicker. “Okay, what about Al and the colonel here?”

“Getting to that.” The other Ed’s face sobered. “There are two people guarding this place. They’re souls bound to armor, just like you, Al.”

Al would have gasped if he could. The others went ahead and did it for him. “Incredible,” Mustang sputtered. “Are you certain?”

“Yep. While second Ed and I fight the guy inside, you two go around back and tackle the one out here. Shouldn’t be too hard, he’s a serial killer – “

“ _What?_ ”

“ – okay, I shouldn’t have said that. But really, you two should be able to take care of him. Then just get him to show you a way in. Got it?”

“Uh-huh,” Al stammered. Both Eds were already halfway into the vent; in another minute, they were out of sight. Al and Mustang backed away from the building and surveyed the mournfully empty yard as they went around to the back. The wind still blew, but there was no other sound.

Seconds passed. Mustang checked his watch. “So when is this fellow going to show up?”

“Hopefully soon,” Al replied nervously. Up above, the moon finally dared to show its face from behind the heavy clouds, and pale light spilled over the grass. The result was more eerie than soothing.

A squeak sounded from the ground, making them jump. “What was that?” Mustang hissed.

Al looked around, finally spotting a odd furball in a patch of weeds. He leaned closer. “It looks like a tiny kitten,” he said, unsure whether to be perplexed or delighted. He decided on delighted.

The grimy thing, upon closer inspection, was a black and white creature that wasn’t _exactly_ a cat but was pretty close (and no less cute). “What are _you_ doing here, you?” Al cooed, reaching out to pet it. It promptly bit him on the hand.

“Let it go, Alphonse,” sighed Mustang. “It’s probably rabid or something. Look at those teeth.”

“I bet it’s not,” Al pouted, but he knew when to leave well enough alone. Anyway, he ought to be focusing on the matter at hand. Or, well, the matter which was _going_ to be at hand. Any second now.

Any second now…

 

Edward and his this-world doppelganger tumbled out of the vent, coughing and covered in dust.

“Man, that took ages,” second Ed complained as they picked themselves up off the floor. “Alright, what next?”

“The main room should be around here somewhere,” Edward said, glancing around. “Come on.”

They navigated the musty hallways, guided by some very helpful floor lighting. The place was littered with cobwebs, cracked plaster, and a foul stench. All the walls were in an identical state of disrepair. “Do you even know where you’re going?” second Ed asked pointedly after their third dead end.

“Shut up. Not my fault this one is different.”

His last visit here seemed a thousand years away by now, but the menacing feeling had never really left. It was here he’d almost gotten killed – almost made a Philosopher’s Stone – almost let the homunculi get Al – almost done a lot of things. But never mind that.

He thought of Winry’s words from earlier. She’d practically ordered him to start hoping, which in his opinion was a little presumptuous. It wasn’t like he’d given up – he just wasn’t the Ed she was used to. Hardly a crime.

Still, he couldn’t help feeling a bit warmer inside. There wasn’t any harm in promising, at least, that he was going to beat the lab this time around. Was there?

“There,” second Ed whispered, pointing straight ahead. The hallway opened into a large room, lit well with hanging torches. The flickering torches illuminated the floor, upon which a large transmutation circle had been inscribed. Ominous red stains dotted the points.

“So this must be where they – where they make Philosopher’s Stones.” Second Ed’s fists trembled at his sides. “I know you said it required humans… but I guess I didn’t really believe it until now…”

Edward said nothing. He didn’t trust his voice to stay steady, not at the moment.

“Welcome, boys,” said a voice from the side. They whirled around and caught sight of a tall suit of armor striding towards them with a clanking step.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen twins here before,” the voice continued dispassionately. “Luckily, I have backup.” He shifted to the side, revealing a second but equally terrifying creature behind him.

“I was number 66 on death row,” the second armor announced, “and he was number 48. But you can call us – ”

“Yeah, yeah, we get the picture,” second Ed growled, turning to Edward. “Okay, other guy, what’s the plan?”

“I didn’t think they were going to gang up on us,” Edward muttered, transmuting a blade from his automail. “Dammit. Well, we’re just going to have to make the best of it. You take Barry – I mean 66 – and I’ve got the other one.”

“Sure, sure.” Second Ed dashed off, leaving Edward to face Number 48, the Slicer brothers. Just like last time.

The fight began with little fanfare. Ed soon found himself on the defensive; the Slicers were even faster with their sword than he remembered. _If I can cut off their legs, they’ll be done for_ , he thought. But it was easier said than done.

“I’m impressed,” remarked Slicer One as Edward sidestepped a particularly savage swipe. “You’re quite good for your age.”

Edward dropped to the ground. “Let’s just say I have – “ he slashed forward at the Slicers’ waist, tearing the cloth, and only a quick dodge on their part saved them “ – experience!”

He backed up into a pillar and ducked just as their sword cut the air where his neck had been. Strands of shorn blond hair floated down, and his breath caught in his throat. _That_ had been close. Sure, he’d died once already, but he wasn’t too keen on it happening again.

Before the Slicers could react, Edward dove between their legs and drove his blade into their hip directly above him. “You’re fast,” Slicer One boomed, knocking him back before the cut could go all the way in, “but it won’t save you!”

Edward staggered to his feet, wiping away the blood streaming from his forehead. One of the Slicers’ legs was hanging at an odd angle beneath the wound he’d just made. “Hah, old man, looks like I got you just now.”

In an instant the armor’s face was only inches from his own. “Don’t be so sure of that!”

Edward gulped and ducked again, feeling his muscles protest at the sudden movement. _Better finish this up…_

It was time to go for broke. He struck off Slicer One’s head in a quick movement, then went for the other leg. It would have been a great blow if he’d managed to land it. Instead he went careening past and landed in a heap on the floor.

“Excellent effort,” said a second, higher voice; Slicer Two raised his sword for the killing blow. “Unfortunately for you, I fight just as well without a head.”

He brought the sword down, only to have it blocked – barely – by Edward’s arm. “Already knew that, bastard!” Edward panted, raising himself with effort. His automail blade pushed vainly against the force of the steel; his adversary didn’t seem to have lost an ounce of energy. Sparks flew and scattered. It was evident that Slicer Two was putting his whole weight behind this last strike. His whole weight… Edward’s eyes flew open. _That’s it!_

He gave in completely, falling back to the floor. With a grunt of surprise, Slicer Two stumbled forward, propelled by his momentum. Edward stuck his arm out and slashed diagonally across his waist. With a great cracking sound, the armor splintered and fell in a shower of confetti around him. He’d done it.

There was a pause as Edward lay back, recovering his breath. “Good work,” Slicer One rumbled a few feet away. “It looks like we’ve been beaten, little brother.”

Slicer Two let out a harsh laugh. “Sure seems like it. And 66, too.”

Edward was suddenly reminded of the other fight going on. He squinted across the room, where second Ed was apparently putting the last touches on a pile of scrap metal that vaguely resembled Barry the Chopper.

“H-hey!” Barry cried as a piece of his arm landed on his head. “I’m a famous serial killer! I deserve better than this!”

Second Ed ignored him, helping Edward to his feet. “Well, that’s done. Guess Al and the colonel didn’t have much to do after all.”

“Mhm.” Edward wiped his face again. “I hope they don’t do anything crazy like breaking in – ”

There was the sound of a snap, followed by a massive explosion to the left. Edward was blown back several feet. When he looked back up, he was greeted by the sight of a giant charred hole in the wall.

As if on cue, Mustang and Al stepped triumphantly into the room, oblivious to the Eds’ openmouthed stares.

“We broke in,” Al announced.

 

Mei bit her lip and listened intently. Something had exploded up above, which was throwing her senses off, but she was sure, absolutely sure, that Xiao-Mei’s squeaking was coming from atop this manhole.

“Mr. Scar, please wait here!” she said, bowing apologetically. “I’ll be back before you know it!” Without waiting for a reply, she scampered up the ladder, lifted the cover, and peeked outside.

It was nighttime, and the moon was out. Its wan light was obscured by the shadow of an immense concrete building nearby, the gate of which was surrounded by a great deal of shouting and commotion.

Mei climbed out onto the street and crept nearer, conscious of a swirling uneasiness in her gut. As she approached, the blue uniforms on the crowd became clear. They were soldiers, it seemed.

“What’s going on?” one demanded.

“Can’t you see?” another snapped, pointing at a gaping hole in the building’s front. “Someone’s broken in! I’ll bet everything I have it’s those Cretan terrorists!”

“Damn! Isn’t this lab connected to the Central Prison?”

There was a general hubbub as the soldiers realized the significance of this.

“Well, what are we waiting for, men? If the top brass finds out about this, we’re done for. Let’s go!”

The group gathered into a loose formation and marched inside. Mei slipped into the yard behind them, staying in the shadow of the outer wall. “Xiao-Mei?” she whispered. “Are you there?”

She heard a delighted squeak from her feet, and happy tears sprang to her eyes. Xiao-Mei scampered into her arms – dirty and hungry, but alive.

“Thank goodness,” Mei said, giving her panda a watery smile. “I missed you so, so much – I don’t know what I’d have done without you – ”

She turned to go, but Xiao-Mei made a noise of protest. “What is it?” asked Mei, her smile fading. “Don’t tell me you want to stay here. This place gives me a bad feeling, you know.”

Xiao-Mei angled her snout insistently at the building and the hole that led within. Mei stared at it, her skin crawling. A thought dawned in her mind – this was a laboratory, wasn’t it? One guarded by the Amestrian military? Top secret, seemingly abandoned?

“The Philosopher’s Stone,” Mei gasped. “It could be in here!” She hesitated and looked back at the manhole where Scar was waiting. It was wrong to leave him down there, but… she couldn’t exactly explain her current situation to him, could she? The outskirts weren’t far; he could get to them on his own in no time. And anyway, Clan Chang was depending on her.

 “Sorry again, Mr. Scar,” Mei murmured, slipping Xiao-Mei in her pocket for safekeeping. She took a steadying breath and fingered her throwing knives. Then, before she could lose her nerve, she ran on into the darkness.

 

Lust paced in circles around Father’s throne. “How did they find out about the Fifth Laboratory? _How?_ ”

“How?” echoed Gluttony earnestly.

Envy rolled his eyes. “Well, obviously, the Fullmetal pipsqueak from the other world told them about it.”

“Precisely,” said Father. “It’s unfortunate that we seem to be undermanned. Where are the rest?”

Lust ticked them off on her fingers. “Well, Wrath is dealing with Greed down south, but I heard he’s run into some difficulties. Sloth’s still digging in the east, Pride’s scoping out the tunnels, and our Envy is still tied up in Liore. In short, other than this maniac, it’s just Gluttony and me.”

“Maniac? You’re one to talk.” Envy couldn’t resist smirking for the third time in as many minutes. It really was his best expression.

Father waved a hand. “Enough. As it happens, I’d like to talk to our sacrifices. Perhaps once they realize what’s at stake, they’ll stop resisting.”

“Not a chance,” Envy said lazily. “Those blond brats don’t give up, you know.”

“Oh, I have my ways.” Father stood and surveyed the motley trio. “As for anyone else wandering around the place, I’ll allow you three to dispose of them. Yes, three,” he added, cutting off Lust’s exclamation. “I’d like our prisoner here to show me what he can do. Release him.”

Lust exhaled loudly but complied, yanking the spears out of Envy’s chest. He jumped down nimbly and stretched, letting his wounds close.

“One misstep and your Stone’s gonna be blown to pieces,” she hissed in his ear. “Is that clear?”

“Crystal,” he replied, winking.

Step one complete.

 

 

 

 


	9. Short Day, Long Night

**AMESTRIS-1**

Al gasped and opened his eyes. He was promptly greeted, after a few blurry seconds, by an unremarkable Dublith morning. The sun's first rays were just beginning to peek through the window, and even the ordinary hustle and bustle of the street outside seemed muted at this hour. It was all very peaceable, and quite at odds with the nightmares he'd been having. He sat up and rubbed his head, trying to ignore the incessant throbbing from that… void, or whatever, that lurked inside. It was doing that more often, these days.

The strange dream still lingered on the edges of his memory, teasingly out of reach. He was fairly certain there had been a fire, and shadows, and maybe some alchemy, all dipped in an inescapable sense of apprehension. It was all gone now, though; sucked back into the void, just another vision in a parade of many. So many, actually, that he was starting to lose track. All right, so he'd had the one on the train, the one about being broke, the one with the explosion, the one with the double Eds, the one with the kittens (or something) – in short, way too many. There had to be  _something_  he was missing, something his subconscious was screaming in his ear, but in the daylight it seemed all too far away.

Al stumbled half-asleep into the kitchen, expecting Sig and Izumi to be there cooking and chatting over coffee as usual, but instead he found a lone, hastily scribbled note pinned to the table under a plate of cooling eggs. "Gone up to Seluna for the day," it read. "Be back by dinner probably. Practice your level 8 transmutations, they stink." That was all. Al sighed at no one in particular, ate his eggs, and then went out to the yard with textbook in hand.

_8\. Now that you've mastered concentric designs, it's time to move on to more complex interlocking structures. The key here is proper proportions. Recall that under normal circumstances, the mass figure declines southwest, while the primary energy figure declines north. Altering the intercardinals in turn alters the result. EXERCISE 1: Try rotating an intermediate steam-producing circle 5 times, 72 degrees each. The goal is all circles in under 30 seconds._ (This last number had been crossed out by Izumi and replaced with  _15_.)

Al copied the diagram into the dirt as quickly as he could and pressed his hands down on it. The circle made a sound like an aging smoker's cough and spat out a pathetic ball of steam. He erased the circle, drew another one with rotated figures, and tried again. The ball was now bright blue. Again. This time it was bigger. Again. It was pink. Again. It exploded in midair.

He checked the solution at the back of the book. It seemed he'd only gotten one wrong this time around. That wasn't bad… relatively. He sighed and plopped back on the ground. His head was swirling, from the void or from the alchemy or, more likely, both. Compared to this, human transmutation – the unbidden thought made him cringe, but too late now – was easy. Taboo stuff was all theory and math. Practical stuff took, well, practice, and he hadn't had any for months.

"It's not my fault I'm not as good as he was," he said aloud into the breeze. "B-because I'm all by myself now, right?" The words hung in the air expectantly. He thought back to the midnight trips to the kitchen, the glasses of milk, the silly hugs and the wishes on the stars... it had all gone away so fast. Sure, he had Winry and the Curtises, but they were all different now. Everything was different, and everything depended on him, and he was steering blind.

He sniffled a little before belatedly chastising himself. He'd already had his pity cry, a thousand times at least, since waking up in this new world; it was high time he got up and did something about it. Blind he might be, but he could still find answers. After all, blind people could still hear, and Al wasn't actually blind, so he could see too, which was even better, and – these metaphors were not helping.

Anyway, he was going to follow the old motto and keep moving forward. It was what Ed and Al, the real ones, would have wanted.  _That_  was a better reason than anything else he could have come up with.

_Right, then,_  he decided, primly crossing his legs,  _today's the day I'm gonna figure all this out._  As if in reply, the void began to pulse even more relentlessly. It was bigger than it had ever been, he realized with a sudden burst of trepidation, but there was no turning back. He shut his eyes and dove in.

The black hole had him in its grasp with frightening ease. The searing white of the Gate rushed up at him almost before he knew what was happening, and even as he recognized it approaching, it was receding behind him.  _Wait,_  he cried, even as he fell away from it.  _Wait –_

Color burst in his eyes. The fire from his dreams was back, blurry but sharpening with every passing second. Distant noises rose and fell, a half-heard sonata that reverberated painfully in his head. He was immobile, surrounded by darkness and… pipes? Was this a sewer?

He tried to gasp and found himself struggling for air. Terror gripped him. This wasn't an ordinary vision. He was trapped, somehow – trapped –

Then he heard his own voice speak to him, and the whole world froze in place.

 

**AMESTRIS-2**

Fuhrer King Bradley of Amestris, greatest of the homunculi and ruler of the most powerful country known to mankind on this earth, was currently taking a rest from his many duties to drag a moldy crate through the back tunnels of the Fifth Laboratory.

"I leave for one day –  _one day_  – and all hell breaks loose," Bradley muttered to himself, tripping over a stray pipe. "And of  _course_  Pride was too busy guarding the border to come help, that rotten little demon… well, I'll tell you one thing, he's not getting that toy train anytime soon…" He blew out a breath and wondered how things had gone downhill so fast. Edward Elric hadn't seemed the type to rebel, not when Bradley had last seen him; even if he had been, he wouldn't have known about the lab, and he certainly wouldn't have dared to involve his superior officer.

Unless – the answer suddenly became clear – unless that Edward from the other world had filled him in.

Bradley scowled, glancing back at the heavily reinforced crate he was pulling behind him. At least that guy had shut up for the time being. And, even better, the lair was close. If everything went smoothly - 

Light footsteps echoed distantly. Bradley whipped around and squinted into the darkness. Not the tread of Fullmetal or his brother, that was for sure… most likely some hapless wanderer, then. There were a thousand forks and dead ends back behind him; he doubted anyone would chance upon him, but he couldn't take the chance, not now.  _And_  he had a meeting to catch in ten minutes.

He looked at the crate, then at the direction of the footsteps, and then back to the crate.

_Damn it._

 

"I don't think this is worth it," Mei whispered as she crept down the tunnel. Aside from Xiao-Mei's occasional squeak, the passage was deafeningly silent. Where had all those military men gone?

She shivered and cast a glance around her. The place itself was damp but innocuous enough – certainly no worse than the sewers she and Scar had been wandering through for the past few hours. No, the real threat here was in those pipes. They covered the tunnel from floor to ceiling, growing in size and complexity as they ran down its length, and  _something_  in them was terribly, terribly wrong – the same wrongness as everything else in this country, but multiplied a thousand times.  
Mei swallowed and rubbed her arm to calm her goosebumps. The Philosopher's Stone had to be in here somewhere – for the sake of her clan, she had to stay strong. It was easier said than done.

She heard a faint tapping sound to her left and stopped in her tracks. At first she dismissed it as a figment of her imagination, but it only grew louder as she listened – and it was too irregular to be a bomb. Cautiously, fingering her knives in her quivering palm, she stepped towards the wall and bent down. Here the mass of pipes separated briefly to reveal a patch of bare dirt just above the ground. Mei had passed several similar spots on her way; after all, the pipes couldn't cover  _every_  square inch. This particular area seemed to have been smoothed over with some haste, but otherwise there was nothing unusual about it – nothing, that is, except for a strange feeling in her gut and (of course) that awful tapping.

Sweat broke out on Mei's forehead. She could walk away now, and everything would be fine… _but if you don't look,_  a voice whispered to her,  _you'll regret it forever_. That was enough. Without further hesitation, she drove a knife into the wall and tore out a section of soil. It dropped quietly at her feet and lay still. Nothing there to report – but behind that layer was a cleverly disguised nook of some sort, four feet wide and who knew how deep. Mei recognized the concept – the clans back home were fond of using secret crevices to pass messages. But inside this particular crevice, tapping sporadically yet with a definite sense of persistence, was a moldy crate.

It seemed to have been shoved in and abandoned with great speed – but by whom? Taking a deep breath and contemplating her own stupidity, Mei dragged it out by its handle and gave it a closer look. It was made of thick metal slats, several layers deep and spaced no more than a few millimeters apart. The hilts of four military-grade cutlasses poked out ominously from the lid, and a rank odor emanated from within.

Suddenly the crate grunted loudly, and Mei clapped her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming. "Hey… you there…" a muffled voice rasped. "You heard me tapping, didn't you? Came to rescue me?"

Her breath caught in her throat.  _What to do, what to do…?_  She didn't dare respond, instead clutching her knife more tightly.

"Hurry up and open the box, man, I'm dying in here –" The voice trailed off into somewhat feigned coughing. "Hurry up…"

Mei swallowed again, forced her knees to bend to her will, and wrested one of the swordhilts from the crate with both hands. It was much heavier than it looked. She threw it on the ground next to her and pulled out the other three in their turn. Each one was coated in blood.

Finally, she reached for the lid itself, but it was thrown off from within before she could so much as lay a hand on it. The shadowy figure inside stood up to his full height, dimly illuminated by flashing red sparks that shot out from his bare torso. Mei squinted but couldn't quite make out his face.

"Thanks for that, kiddo," the man said, picking dried blood off his hand. "But I can't have you following me back to Dublith, so apologies in advance – " He lunged at her suddenly. She threw a knife blindly, gasping, and even in her panic it landed dead center in his chest; but he hardly seemed to notice. With almost casual efficiency, he punched her to the opposite wall of the tunnel, where she slid soundlessly to the floor.

"Man, I hate hitting girls," the man sighed as he disappeared back the way she had come.

 

"Did you hear that?" said Al, pausing briefly as he and the others raced down a corridor not far away.

"Hear what?" Mustang shouted over the din of their footsteps. "I don't know how you can hear anything over this racket, Alphonse. Who thought it was a good idea to make tunnels out of  _pipes_?"

"No, I'm positive there were voices or something over this way. I think we took a wrong turn back there after all – should've gone left – "

"Oh, can it," Ed puffed in a decidedly crabbier voice than usual. (He had been the one to suggest turning right.) "I bet it's just Elric telepathy again, you know how it is."

Al hesitated. He was fairly sure the sound hadn't been from the other world, but frankly, where the Gate was concerned, one could never be certain. He let the matter drop.

Another fork approached them some minutes later; they slowed to a stop right as the path diverged into three. All of them curved in sharp U-shapes, making it impossible to tell where they headed. The other Ed looked around, catching his breath, before freezing suddenly. "Look over there," he said quietly. Al and the others turned to the leftmost tunnel. Sharply outlined in the bend was a small, messy pile of bodies. They staggered backwards in horror; Al managed to avoid fainting only through his fortunate lack of anything with which to faint.

Mustang approached the corpses and bent down to scrutinize them. "They're military," he announced grimly. "Sliced clean through the stomach, most of them. Some look – er – chewed."

"Lust and Gluttony," the other Ed muttered. "Well, now we know for sure there's something bad down here. The only question is if it's the same something it was in my world"

"What was it in your world?" Al asked nervously.

The other Ed turned and gave him a look. "A way to make the Philosopher's Stone," he replied. Al didn't ask him to elaborate.

Meanwhile, Ed and Mustang were scoping out the left tunnel. "The homunculi are definitely this way," said Ed. "C'mon." They stepped over the bodies warily and began making their way down the passage at a slower pace. Al looked around. The pipes seemed to be getting even bigger, if that were possible. A crawling sense of unease descended upon him.

The earlier hubbub dwindled into silence and bated breaths; even the slightest murmur seemed like an invitation to watching eyes. Slowly they began to drift off into their own thoughts. Al, for his part, wondered what could be down here that the homunculi were so willing to protect, even at the cost of their country's own soldiers; then, after pursuing that train of thought for a while, he regretted ever bringing it up. Maybe it was an underground city, like the one known to the other Ed; or a Philosopher's Stone perhaps, coated in the cries of innocents; or a dumping ground for the undoubted thousands who had perished to evil; or – he managed to cut himself off there. But the sensational notions and the image of the men's slumped silhouettes followed him all the way down the tunnel.

He thought he heard voices crying out again, somewhere in the far distance, and once or twice his vision flickered before him. It was like what he had felt when he had meditated, but so strong and substantial that he wondered whether it was Elric telepathy after all. Perhaps it was his true body beckoning him back to itself, as it had done a few brief times over the years. Al had nothing to say to that possibility except that his body had terrible timing.

An infinity later, or so it seemed, the sound of approaching footsteps shocked him and the others back to reality. Two shadows were rounding the corner – one tall and shapely, the other short and squat. They knew at once who they were facing.

"Well, well," Lust murmured, her voice echoing off the winking metal. "Looks like we made it back just in time, hm, Gluttony?"

"I knew it," the other Ed growled, shifting into a more aggressive stance.

"Oh, do relax," she replied as the duo came nearer. "We're your escorts today, that's all. You won't get through the chimeras up ahead without our help."

"We'll manage," Ed snapped, mirroring his doppelganger, "on our own terms."

Lust delicately raised an eyebrow. "Is that a threat?"

There was a pause as the group traded glances. "Uh,  _was_  it a threat?" Al whispered frantically.

"Yes! Of course it was!" Ed hissed. "They might want us alive, but they sure as hell won't have a problem killing the colonel here – "

"How do you know that?" interjected the colonel himself. "Do you even have a plan, Fullmetal, or are you just making this up on the fly?"

"Yeah," the other Ed chimed in, "I think you're extrapolating – "

Ed waved his hands in exasperation, notably without attempting to explain himself, and turned back to the two homunculi. "For your information, Lust… it was a threat!"

"I see." She smirked suddenly. "Well, in the interest of self-defense, we're not above cutting off a few limbs where we need to." With exquisite calm, she strode forward, followed closely by Glutton. Al calmed his nerves and tried not to think about the awful feeling in his gut. The others breathed – once – twice – there was a moment of total silence – and the fight began.

Lust went straight for Mustang, as Ed had predicted, and the others moved in to help him (though not without grumbling). Al stepped behind her in hopes of cutting her off; but he soon found himself occupied with her partner. Gluttony, as it turned out, was a great deal faster than he looked.

It took only a few moments for Al to realize he was in over his head. Before he could so much as wonder what was going on or even who this odd little man was (it had been a while since the other Ed's briefing on the train), he found himself fighting off an endless barrage of slavering jaws. But he didn't dare to use alchemy here, not with these mysterious pipes everywhere – even plain water bursting out would be dangerous, and  _that_  was a best-case scenario. He was reduced to his old sparring techniques, which proved somewhat less useful against Gluttony's teeth.

The clang and clash of metal grew louder around him. Off to the side he saw Mustang battling off Lust's talons with middling success. Al wanted badly to go over and help, but he had his hands full here (which had probably been her plan all along, he realized). Gluttony rushed at him once more and took a running leap that had his mouth nearly at eye level. Al ducked just in time and heard spittle rain down on his armor.  _Great, and I just polished it too…_  He got to his feet, dodging again as Gluttony reached to bite off his hand, and managed to save all but the tip of his pinkie.

"Hey!" Al cried, offended. He staggered backward, narrowly avoiding a jet of flame from the colonel a few yards down, and examined the digit. It wasn't a great loss, all things considered, but it had him worried. He was alone, here in this part of the corridor. The other three weren't in any position to help – Mustang was trying to incinerate the chimeras hidden in the tunnel ceiling ahead, and the Eds were keeping Lust at bay not far from him. None of them seemed particularly concerned with Al. If things went on as they were, he could look forward to a cozy spot in Gluttony's stomach. And all the while, the strange feeling was worming into him again.

He looked around in desperation and was surprised to see a square patch of plain dirt in the wall where two pipes diverged. It was small and rather unremarkable, being no different from a thousand others he had passed, but now it seemed better than a blessing from Leto himself. Hopefully there was enough soil in there for what he needed.

In the meantime, Gluttony was approaching speedily.  _All right,_  Al thought,  _time to show off what you got back in Dublith!_  He would have preferred a quieter moment to practice more – or, well, _at all_  – but now was as good a time as any. In the best imitation of Ed he could muster (minus the dramatic pose, naturally), he clapped, pictured the transmutation circle he wanted, and put his hand on the wall. There was a bright spark, followed by the sudden appearance of a large earthen fist. It came out at an unfortunate angle and was a bit more sculpted than strictly necessary, but nonetheless it hit Gluttony square in the face mid-jump. The homunculus wailed and stumbled back to the opposite wall, where he was immediately torched by a stray burst of flame from the colonel.

The inhuman screeching that followed dwarfed even the noisy death throes of the chimeras. Everyone, even Lust, froze mid-fight to look. Red lightning shot out from Gluttony's charred flesh, and for a moment Al fancied he could see the Philosopher's Stone itself, tied down fast at the center of it all, pumping souls away like a heart pumped blood. The thought was nauseating, but Al held on to one thread:  _away._  The souls were going away, dissipating as they healed Gluttony's injuries… and if that was really what powered the Stone, then…

He recovered his presence of mind long enough to shout in Mustang's direction, " _Do it again!_ "

The colonel blinked, startled out of some hazy reverie, and obligingly snapped his fingers in Gluttony's direction. The inferno, and the screams, began anew. Gluttony struggled and flailed about, tongue lolling helplessly, but he was as good as caught. The Stone was definitely visible now, obscured as it was by smoke and drool. Red liquid oozed from it, almost lazily in comparison to the heat of the action.

Lust charged Mustang, screaming something awful, but Ed jumped in front and held her off with his automail. Mustang was throwing jet after jet of searing flame now; one of them managed to graze Lust's dress, sending up a second wave of smoke. The chimeras were still crying out, somewhere in the darkness. Al sank down to the floor, suddenly feeling light-headed. The voices were back with a vengeance.

"This isn't doing any good!" the other Ed cried from behind. "Without their – their weakness, you can't destroy them – "

"Seems to be working just fine," Mustang yelled back distractedly. "And you never said anything about a weakness – "

The other Ed opened his mouth to reply, but the words turned into a grunt of surprise as a long spike shot out from behind him, missing his shoulder by an inch or less.

"You bastard," growled a raspy voice in the shadows. The spike flashed and shifted back into the shape of a pale, lanky arm. It was Envy, of course.

"Where were you?!" Lust snapped over the ongoing sound of devouring flame. Ed was still holding her back from the colonel, but only just. "Weren't you supposed to help Gluttony and me mop up those soldiers? Look at this mess!"

Envy stepped into the light and nonchalantly blew out an ember that had come to rest on his arm. His comrade's impending demise seemed not to trouble him. "Does it matter? I'm here to help now. Slashing, stabbing, however you like it…" Firelight danced in his eyes, giving them a terrifying aura. "Next time, I won't miss."

"I thought you told Father you were  _done trying to kill them!_ " Lust bellowed.

"Oops." Envy grinned more widely than Al had ever thought possible. "Well, it was nice of him to let me go."

"You – you traitor," Lust sputtered, abruptly disengaging herself from the fight. "I knew it. From the moment I hauled you out of Dublith…" She stepped towards Envy, sporting a terrifying glower. Her fingernail extended upward until its tip rested on his throat. "Lay so much as a finger on our sacrifices," she hissed, "and I'll make sure your petty revenge dies before they do."

He met her gaze unflinchingly, still grinning, and the world stood still for one precious second. Even above the roar of the flames, his response was perfectly clear.

"If you say so."

Then he ducked, punched her in the gut, and took off running down the tunnel. "Don't worry, Elric brothers," he called in a singsong voice, skirting around Al and Gluttony. "I'll see you another time!"

Lust doubled over, cursed and made to follow him. But, mid-stride, she halted and looked back: first at the four hapless humans, and then at Gluttony, still writhing in the center of a terrifying fireball. Her gaze rested on him for some time, and Al was certain that he was looking back, somehow – then, without another word, she was gone.

"Well, that was something," said the other Ed after a while. He was massaging his shoulder, clearly thanking it for its continued existence.

Al got to his feet sluggishly. "How… how much longer?"

"This should do it," said Mustang, snapping his fingers one last time. The orange light waxed hungrily and tore at its captive. Gluttony's Stone gave a piteous wail,  and Al pictured the people inside wailing along with it. The house of his flesh crumbled into dust, toppling like a tower in the clouds.

"L-Lust…" he groaned finally, almost inaudibly, and then the fire went out. The ensuing silence swelled until it enveloped the air.

There was nothing left when all was said and done, no corpse or anything; just a measly pile of ash and some charred piping. It seemed wrong, somehow. Al almost expected one of the others to launch into a eulogy.

Ed coughed, conspicuously looking away. "Okay, now what?"

"I cleared the chimeras earlier," Mustang said, "and it looks like there's a central room not far beyond that. All we need to do is get there." He turned to the tunnel ahead, flanked by the two Eds. Al tried to follow them, but suddenly he found himself glued to the spot. When had that happened? His head spun with the echoes of those spectral voices – they just wouldn't  _shut up_  –

"Al? You in there?" interrupted Ed, flicking his arm impatiently. "C'mon, man, we need to go."

Al twitched, nearly hitting his brother in the face. That was bad. He hadn't twitched since, well, that night. "Uh, I think I'll stay here," he stammered. "You know, like a lookout."

The others traded skeptical glances. "Are you sure?" the other Ed asked cautiously.

"If Envy and Lust come back, they'll be tough to fight off," Al said, doing his best to sound casual. "So I'll, um, stand here in case that happens. They don't know where my blood seal is, so I'll be okay. Right?"

"He has a point," Mustang admitted. "A slim one, but nonetheless."

Ed didn't look convinced in the slightest, but he shrugged and went with it. "Fine by me, then," he said. "But holler if you need help – we'll be right around the corner." He gave Al a pointed  _you-better-have-a-fantastic-explanation-for this-buddy_  look before taking off. Mustang and the other Ed, after a few moments' hesitation, went after him. Their footsteps pounded away down the tunnel and were gone.

Al sighed in relief, though being alone and immobile in a hellish maze of pipes really wasn't much cause for celebration, and turned his concentration inward. The voices (really, it was a single, horribly over-echoed voice) became steadily clearer as he did so, and the whirlwind sensation began to spiral in on itself, finally reaching its nadir on – the back of his neck. So it  _had_  been the other Al this whole time.

_Hello?_  he thought warily.

There was no response for a while, except a vague sense of fear. Eventually an answer floated back to him from inside his own head.

-  _Ah, um, hi? Who are you?_  It was almost perfectly clear, if a little jumbled, and it sounded exactly like Al himself.

_I'm Alphonse,_  he began, trying to sound authoritative,  _Alphonse Elric, and I'm guessing you are, too._

-  _What?! How'd you know?_

_Alright, did your brother Edward recently disappear?_

-  _Yes, but…_

_He's here._

The line went dead for a moment. -  _No way,_  gasped the other Al.  _Are you serious? You wouldn't lie to me, right? I mean, since we're the same person –_

_Of course I'm not lying,_  Al said, a bit put out.  _He isn't here with me right now, but he's around. Anyway, we all want to know how you're doing._

-  _Me? I'm, well…_  The other Al trailed off gloomily.  _Don't tell Brother this, okay? Promise?_

Al felt a twinge of apprehension.  _Promise,_  he replied eventually.

- _I got my body back just like he wanted, but – not all the way. I'm ten now. I don't remember anything that happened since we tried to bring Mom back._

_Oh._  The shock came numbly at this point. Al couldn't think of anything to say, besides the typical "But that's impossible!"  _I'm… I'm sorry._

-  _It's fine. Anyway, keep it a secret from Brother. I don't want him to think it was his fault._ There was a pause. _I probably should've asked this earlier, but where are you? And how am I talking to myself?_

Al recalled belatedly that his counterpart, unlike himself, hadn't the faintest knowledge of this whole parallel-universe mess.  _It's a long story, but basically I'm from another Amestris. It's like a mirror of your world, except a little time discrepancy. So there's another Brother, another Winry, another…_  he tried to think of other people he'd known at age ten. He'd been a bit shy back then, to be honest.  _…uh, yeah, it's mostly the same._

-  _Wait, so you're still in the armor? And you're really fourteen?_

_Mm-hmm._

_\- Wow! I've heard so much about you – I mean, me. I can't believe we finally got to meet!_

_Neither can I,_  Al said politely. That was something worth pondering; why was the connection so clear, down here of all places?  _Anyway, I'm glad you're safe. Your brother was really worried._

_\- I'm glad he's safe, too._  The other Al's voice was beginning to sound faint; he said the rest in a rush.  _I think I have to go now. I'll be back tomorrow, though, okay? Bye!_

The tension on Al's neck evaporated, and his limbs unlocked themselves so quickly he almost collapsed. It took him a few moments to reorient himself. "Well, that was an experience," he muttered, still trying to grasp the whole amnesia situation. No time to think about any of it now, though – he needed to catch up with the others. The corridor was quiet now, completely at odds with the chaotic battle that had reigned just minutes earlier, and he could make out the sound of one Ed or another yelling up ahead. No fights yet, thankfully.

Al turned a corner some moments later and spotted a piercing white light streaming into the very end of the tunnel, a few dozen yards away. Judging by the direction of the yelling, that was the central room Mustang had mentioned. The tunnel headed straight for it, without any more tricksy twists – that is, except for an small fork that snaked off to the side. Al squeezed into it, immediately suspicious, and found that it led to an entirely separate passage on the other side. It seemed identical for the most part. Al shrugged to himself and would have headed back, but a thin murmur, undeniably human, stopped him in his tracks.

At the back of the tunnel, just within his line of sight, there was a crate of some sort lying open and discarded on the floor. He walked up to it, trying and failing to put the image of the soldiers' corpses out of his mind. Stained cutlasses were scattered around, and the lid had been thrown off to the side. The crate itself was slick with dark blood. Next to it, shifting and moaning at intervals, was the prone body of a young girl.

By now Al was too exhausted to even react to this new development. He bent down at a safe distance and prodded her. She was bruised and dirty but apparently unhurt. Was she a homunculus…? No, her eyes were normal, if smaller than what he was used to; something else had to have left all this blood. Maybe she'd just wandered in here somehow.

Anyway, no matter who she was, the homunculi would kill her if they found her here. Al picked her up gingerly and stuffed the knife back in the folds of her robe. A small animal poked its head out as he did so and bit him on the finger.

"Hey! You're that kitten-thing from outside!" said Al, rather elated despite himself. "What're you doing in here?" It wasn't exactly the right time to be thinking about cats, but in his defense, this had been a  _long_  night. The creature responded by rudely biting him again. "Okay, okay, I'll stop."

After giving it a last, much-unappreciated scratch under the chin, Al stuffed it back in and returned to the main tunnel, carrying the girl in his arms. There he nearly ran headfirst into the others, who were beating a hasty retreat from the central room. "There you are, Al," the other Ed panted. "Good to see – who's that?"

"I found her on the floor over there," Al replied. "I thought it might be a good idea to get her out. What about you?"

"Met another raving egomaniac," said the other Ed, sounding vaguely dismissive. "Fill you in later. Anyway, let's just get out of here."

They ran back down the endless passage in silence, turning this way and that, past the ashes and the corpses and the blood-spattered lab floor and the hole in the wall, until, quite suddenly, they found themselves back outside under the stars. Morning was still hours away, and the streets were quiet. There was even a breeze.

"Excuse me, Mr. Armor Man?" the girl said suddenly, making them all jump. "Could you put me down now?"

Without waiting for an answer, she leaped nimbly out of his grasp and began marching back into the laboratory. "Hey, kid, you can't go in there!" Ed burst out. "They'll kill you!"

The girl turned around curiously, braids trailing behind her. "Who's  _they_?"

"Er, well, bad people. I'm serious, though. Even if you're an alchemist, you'll be in big trouble."

"I see…" The girl looked spectacularly unconvinced, but she sighed and stepped away from the wall nonetheless. "Well, I guess I've kept Mr. Scar waiting too long. Come on, Xiao-Mei, let's go." The little cat - apparently this was Xiao-Mei - jumped out of her robe and up to a comfortable perch on her shoulder. With that, she trotted off down the street towards a slightly-ajar manhole.

There was a brief pause as the group digested this. Then: "Did – did she say Scar?!" the colonel spluttered. As one, they dashed after her. Too late, though; the manhole was pushed open, and a scar-crossed head poked out from beneath.

" _Damn it_ ," said the Eds in unison.

Evidently, the night wasn't over just yet.

  
**AMESTRIS-1**

"…but then I felt my body pulling me back, so I said goodbye and left," Al finished. "It only took five minutes, I think."

It was eight-thirty in the evening, and the motley Curtis-Elric family was enjoying a late pasta dinner. The day had gone by in a blur. Al had spent the whole afternoon researching furiously, following his successful trip to the other world, and he was reasonably sure that no one else, not even his father, had made a discovery like this before. The truth of it all was wonderfully overwhelming.

Izumi folded her arms. "How do you know all of this actually happened?"

"I just  _know_ ," said Al, with a shrug. "It was different from the visions. Kind of like a phone call, I guess?"

"A phone call," Sig repeated doubtfully. "To… yourself in another universe."

"Exactly!" Al stifled the urge to bounce up and down on his chair like a kid getting extra dessert. "Isn't it great?"

"Well, if it  _is_  true, that's fantastic news," said Izumi. "Maybe if you and, er… you… work together, we can bring Ed back home."

Al bit his lip hard to keep from crying again – this time out of unlooked-for joy. "Really? You think so?"

"Of course I do." Without warning, she picked him up and hugged him. "Good work today, Al."

Al returned the hug, surprised at the sudden compliment, and then Sig picked both of them up clear off the ground and swung them around the kitchen in a little dance. "Stop showing off!" Izumi cried, giggling. Al laughed, swung his feet in the air, cried a little despite everything, and then laughed again. This wasn't his family, not really; but suddenly, even after his resentful thoughts not ten hours past, he couldn't have cared less. They were there for him, and so was everyone else he cared about in this big, silly world – this world, and another.

_I'm not alone,_  he thought in the midst of it all,  _never alone, as long as I have you._

And so, in the blink of an eye, the day drew to a quiet close.


	10. Parting Ways

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies again for the wait! To those of you who reviewed, thank you for your insightful comments and critiques. I do my best to plot this fic out, but with months between each chapter I'm afraid I tend to forget what exactly everyone is doing - heh, oops. Well, in any case, this chapter marks the end to this "arc" of sorts. Please enjoy!

**AMESTRIS-2**

_"_ _Bastard!" Edward shouted, struggling in vain to break free of the transmuted ropes wrapped around him. "You're not going to get away with this scheme of yours!"_

_The old man – Father – stared back, unruffled. White light shone down on him from above, blurring his decrepit figure into an indistinguishable glowing mass. Roy's eyes stung to gaze upon it. "You're jumping to conclusions. The multiverse could very well benefit from my plan, and in any case, I haven't said so much as a word about it yet."_

_"_ _W-well, whatever it is, it can't be anything GOOD – "_

_Roy rolled his eyes. He and the other Ed were trapped as well – Father had hit them on arrival, before somehow shutting down their alchemy altogether. Alphonse was lucky he had missed it. "All right, then," he snapped at their captor, "tell us what you want with Amestris. Sacrifices deserve to know what they're being sacrificed for, don't you think?"_

_"_ _Hmm. Very noble, Colonel, but I'd rather not shake your confidence with the truth. You've given a great deal to this country, after all."_

_Roy stiffened, refusing to let the oblique mention of Ishbal faze him. "It's no country of yours – "_

_"—_ _oh, and you're not a sacrifice. Merely a spare, if you will. Remember that." The man untied their restraints. "Well, I think I'll turn your alchemy back on after you exit the laboratory. Goodbye, now."_

_They ran._

 

"You've got to be kidding," Roy muttered in an undertone.

It was a little past one in the morning, or it would have been, had he bothered to check his pocket watch. As far as he knew, it was the middle of the night – a night that had far overstayed its welcome. First the endless trek through the pipes, then a grisly fight with Lust and Gluttony, then the whole travesty with 'Father', then going  _back_ through the pipes… and now Scar. It beggared belief.

The wanted man's head poked silently out of the manhole not twenty-five feet away; a sitting duck if Roy ever saw one. But blocking their way to him was the Xingese girl Al had found somewhere in the tunnels. Only a child, an exhausted child liberally splattered with blood and muck – but the expression on her face was resolute.

"You there!" shouted Ed, waving at the girl. "Don't you know who he is? Get away from him!"

"I promised I would help Mr. Scar get to the shantytown," the girl answered, her voice shaking. A throwing knife glinted in her palm. "You can't attack a defenseless man!"

"We don't have time for this," said Roy impatiently. "I don't want to hurt you, but it's high time that man was brought to justice."

"Right," said Al. "He got away from us before, but this time we won't let anyone stand in our way!"

"Not before I talk to him first, at least," the other Ed added, his usual belligerence tempered by a rather different look – Roy didn't know him well enough to describe it, but had Ed and Al seen it, they might have dubbed it his  _thinking-about-home_ face. "Scar, stop telling this girl lies and let her go."

They squinted at him for a few moments, but there was no response; the man didn't even twitch. "Hey," whispered Al in the silence, "this is taking forever. Can't we just attack him from here with our alchemy?"

"Oh, right, you weren't there with Father," said Ed. "The leader of the homunculi, I mean. He turned it off so we couldn't attack him."

"What? No way!" Al clapped his hands experimentally; as expected, nothing happened. "I can't believe you waited till now to tell me. It's not gone forever, is it?"

The other Ed sighed and folded his arms. "He said he'd turn it back on later, but we've probably still got a good twenty minutes on the clock. Until those are up, we're all equally powerless."

"Hey! Stop chatting over there!" the girl cried. "I know what you four are up to with those schemes. You have the Philosopher's Stone, don't you?"

Roy couldn't resist gaping a little. "What?"

The girl pointed an accusing finger at the Fifth Laboratory still looming behind them. "You were running around in those tunnels like you knew them, and then kicking me out while saying you were doing me a favor! And Mr. Scar was an obstacle to your plans, so you took a chunk out of his arm, didn't you? Well, I won't fall for your tricks!"

They were too shocked for a moment to respond. "Wait, no, that's not right," Ed spluttered finally. "You've got it all wrong! Just let us explain –"

"Don't bother!" the girl shouted, suddenly brandishing her knife. No, not just one knife, Roy realized; there were five in her palm, small but dangerously sharp. He tensed, ready for one to come whizzing at his chest, but instead the girl turned and threw them point-first into a nearby wall. Then, before they could react, she traced a pentagram-like symbol in the grimy pavement beneath her and slammed her hand down on it.

A blinding flash of light shot into the air, and the wall exploded outwards, showering them in an impenetrable cloud of dust. "Come on, Mr. Scar, let's go!" the girl yelled off in the distance, followed closely by the sound of the manhole sliding back into place. Another spark lit the air briefly and was gone. The four raced forward, eyes watering, until they stumbled upon the manhole; try as they might, however, it refused to budge.

"She must have sealed it up with alchemy," Al said disappointedly as the air cleared around them. "Except I thought our alchemy was still blocked…"

"It is," said Roy, snapping his fingers to demonstrate. "But that display wasn't like any alchemy I've ever seen. I suppose they do it differently in Xing."

"Weird." Ed let out a massive yawn. "Well, whatever. I'm beat."

Roy was suddenly reminded of his own exhaustion. It was a miracle they were all still standing upright after four straight hours of running and fighting – though their clothes hadn't fared so well. No wonder the girl had mistaken them for villains. Roy scratched his head, stifling a yawn of his own. "Let's go back. We all have work to do tomorrow, if you haven't forgotten."

The four turned and trudged down the street. Al twiddled his fingers. "So, uh, are you planning to explain this whole situation with Father? I'd really like to know what I missed."

"There wasn't much to it," Roy told him. "The man shut us down as soon as we set foot in the room. He has a Philosopher's Stone – I don't know how, but he has one. I'm sure he could have killed us if he'd wanted to, but then he went ahead and waved us out. Seems he's got a plan for  _both_ universes, and it involves us. Oh, and apparently he bears a strong resemblance to your father."

Al made a noise of surprise. "What? What does Dad have to do with any of this? It doesn't make any sense!"

"I'll say," the other Ed grunted. "This place is all wrong. I knew Dante wasn't around here anymore, but now it turns out she never even existed. This Father guy started his plot, whatever it is, all by himself. And the homunculi, well, they're different too… y'know. Not that I mind." There was a contemplative silence.

"You mentioned something about a weakness they had," Roy said. "Unless that changed as well?"

"Oh. That." The other Ed's voice sounded rather strained. "In my world, you could immobilize a homunculus if you had a piece of – of the original person's body. That's what I was thinking of earlier. But judging by what Father said, these homunculi weren't made from human transmutation. I guess all we can do is wear down their Stones."

"I see," said Roy, rubbing his chin. "Well, I'm sure we can manage that. Gluttony wasn't too bad." The creature's gruesome last moments flickered in his memory briefly and faded – skin flaking off like dry paint, bone and muscle crumbling away in agony, leaving nothing but screams and ashes… only a spectacular death could lodge in his mind these days, he had to admit. He'd torched plenty in his time, and they'd all been forgotten, even to him – but he was a veteran, wasn't he? It was a natural fate.

He wondered how the boys were taking it. Al was enigmatic as he often could be when not speaking; his brother was chewing his lip, clearly perturbed; the other Ed, meanwhile, bore a stony expression rather at odds with what Roy was used to from that face of his. Really, he looked more like a veteran himself.  _Just what has that kid seen?_

"Er, anyway," said Al, "we need to decide what to do next. I mean, we just found out some major information."

Ed yawned again. "Well, we definitely can't tell anyone. Bradley climbed into my hospital room  _just_ to threaten me, remember? He'd probably flip out if anyone else besides the colonel here knew our secrets."

"I think we should go look for Hohenheim," said the other Ed suddenly, making his counterpart flinch. "I'm sure he's related to this somehow, one way or another."

"We don't need his help," Ed muttered. "It's not like we'd ever find the old bastard anyway."

"Brother, that's mean," said Al reproachfully. "It's a good idea, even if you don't like him. Can't you just listen to your own advice?"

"Well, gee, when you put it like that…  _no!_ "

The conversation immediately descended into squabbling. Roy wisely retreated into his own thoughts, which, unfortunately, were no less disordered. A part of him was still in denial that any of this had happened – but no, he  _had_ just uncovered a government conspiracy, killed a homunculus, and launched a rebellion against his own leaders. The size of it all was dizzying to behold. And for what? A moral triumph? A few new bruises? An extra cup of coffee in the morning?  _For what?_

He asked himself the question, but really, he reflected ruefully, the answer was all too plain: he'd done it for them. For these three blond brats, without an ounce of good sense between them. For the boys who had played God at ten and lived. For the idiots who had gone off on a standard mission and returned with a revelation that threatened to rip apart the very fabric of their reality. These people, it turned out, were worth risking his life for.

The sentiment was too mushy to entertain for more than a second. Roy moved on to more practical matters: it was all well and good to look out for his subordinates, but the situation now was dire. They were up against six near-invincible abominations, powers unknown, led by an enemy with the ability to shut off alchemy at will. Gluttony had gone down relatively easily in a closed environment, but he couldn't count on that luck again. And, more distressingly, he was a spare; they could kill him any time they wanted.

He needed a plan, evidently, but procrastination won out again. For the time being, he decided, he'd lay low and stay on Father's good side. Tomorrow, it was back to the daily grind.

"Colonel? Hey, Colonel!"

Roy blinked and returned to reality. "What?"

They were standing at a large intersection by the river. Ed pointed up at the street sign. "Your apartment's around here, right?"

"Hm. I suppose it is." Roy cleared his throat. "Well then, I'll be leaving you here. I expect to see you bright and early tomorrow morning… with that 12b report you owe me from last month, I'm sure you know the one –"

Ed groaned. "Oh, come on! You know, I'm actually very punctual – "

"No, we're not," the other Ed cut in.

"Yes, well," Roy continued loudly, "I'd like to see it done, Fullmetal – the sooner the better. Good night." A pause. "And good work, all of you."

He nodded to them brusquely, as was the norm, and strode off without a backward glance.  _No sentiment there_ , he congratulated himself. _Absolutely none._

 

"I swear I can't understand a word that bastard says," Ed complained as the Elric brothers rounded the corner to their own dormitory. "I mean, that last part sounded almost nice. What's he playing at?"

"Maybe he's just being friendly?" Al suggested timidly.

"Very funny, Al, but I'm serious. Let me guess, he's planning a mission out to Aerugo or something and wants to soften us up before he hands us the notice…"

"Who cares?" The other Ed pushed open the door to their room. "Let's worry about all that tomorrow. I don't know about you, but I'm beat."

"Wait!" Al blurted out. "I just remembered – I have to tell you guys something!"

Ed squinted at him suspiciously, remembering an earlier incident. "Let me guess, it's got something to do with why you wouldn't go in Father's lair with us?"

"Yeah. Close the door." Al hesitated, weighing his words. "Basically, I was having a conversation with the other Al."

The room went silent. Ed gaped in shock; he turned to stare at the other Ed, who for his part seemed on the verge of collapse. Their breath hung in the air, frozen in place.

"S- so you're saying you finally connected with him? And he's alive?" the other Ed croaked at last.

"Uh-huh," Al replied. "Unhurt, too. Whatever you did, it worked."

The other Ed sank down onto the bed; Al and Ed pretended not to notice the distinct wetness in his eyes. Then, suddenly, he jumped up and punched the air. "Yes! We… we did it! I can't believe it, we finally got our bodies back! What'll Winry say…" Ed slapped him on the back companionably (and more than a little enviously), and was rewarded with, of all things, a hug. He had never seen his other self happier.

"Um, there's another thing," Al said quietly.

They stopped and looked back at him. "Huh?"

"The transmutation gave the other Al his body, but, uh... it was the body and soul of his old self."

"His old self – " the other Ed repeated, brow furrowing.

Al barreled on. "I wasn't supposed to tell you this – he thought it'd worry you, and I bet it will – but he's ten now. He's ten, and he doesn't remember anything after losing his body."

The silence this time was even longer, if that was possible. The other Ed sat back down heavily, face in shadow. Ed took a step back, expecting an outburst; Al looked like he was thinking the same. To come so close and yet lose so much… he tried to imagine what he would have done, had his own brother come back as the child of four years ago. Not anything pretty, that was for sure. It was an awful tragedy.

But the other Ed merely heaved a resigned sigh and flopped down on the bed. "Oh, well," he said. "I guess it did seem a bit too easy."

"'Oh, well'?" Ed repeated, stupefied. "Is that all you've got?"

The other Ed shrugged. "It is how it is. Even if he's not what he used to be, he's got his whole life ahead of him now. I – I can't fix everything."

"Hey, you can't just give up," persisted Ed. "I bet you can find a way to bring back the memories, at least. Al and I can help you. Hell, even if we have to go talk to Hohenheim, we'll figure it out."

"That's right," said Al cheerfully. "I'm sure there's a solution out there somewhere. We just have to use alchemy."

"Mm," the other Ed replied, but Ed could tell his heart wasn't in it. "I'll just have to sleep on it, I guess."

That night, Ed awoke briefly from bad dreams and saw, to his left, the other Ed lying board-flat on the bed, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. He hadn't slept a wink.

 

Sunrise was almost upon Scar and Mei Chang when they finally happened upon the slum at the edge of the city. "Here we are," said Mei, her words almost drowned out by a gigantic yawn. The shantytown, little more than a hulking, foul-smelling gray shadow at this hour, was already buzzing with the activity of a thousand indigents. "I don't know why those military people were after you," she added, "but they'll never find you here."

Scar looked down at her. His expression couldn't exactly have been said to be overflowing with gratitude, but… close enough. "Why did you help me?" he asked suddenly.

Mei blinked, surprised at the question. "Well, you were bleeding out," she said, pointing to the still-ugly wound in his arm. "And, um, I couldn't just leave you like that, so I healed you…" She trailed off, realizing that this answer wasn't placating him. It wasn't a full answer, anyway; after all, she could have healed him and then left without a second thought. It would have been the smart decision, all things considered.

She took a deep breath and stepped closer. "Mr. Scar, I want to be the empress of Xing one day." There went her secret. No turning back now. "I can do it if I find what I came here to find, but that's not enough. I want to be a – a good empress. You know? Someone who deserves their trust." She looked back up at Scar, meeting his gaze. "If I can't even help people in need, I don't deserve anything."

"I see," he said. Something on his face changed then, but in the wan light Mei couldn't tell what. Their parting, in the end, was subdued.

"He's an odd one, isn't he, Xiao-Mei?" she commented as Scar's back retreated behind the throng of tents. "I probably shouldn't have told him about being the empress."

The panda squeaked disapprovingly. "All right, that's fair," replied Mei, "but those four people at the laboratory are our best lead right now, so it wasn't a  _total_ loss." She paused. "Actually, one of them looked familiar. I can't place it exactly…" Ah, never mind. Maybe she'd remember after a nap.

The sky was lightening. A new day was on the horizon; another day for her to win Clan Chang's ultimate prize. Despite her tiredness, she felt dread and excitement alike racing through her veins.  _I'd wish you the best, Mr. Scar,_ she thought, squinting out over the crowds,  _but I think I'll need all the luck for myself._

 

Far beneath Central, morning and night blended into a seamless, timeless daze – or so it seemed that way to the one they called Father. A day was nothing to him; a year, no more than a drop in the sea. He closed his eyes and saw infinity, the space and time of a thousand universes and more, laid out before him like the raiment of stars. The souls of every one of their people, uncountable masses writhing in the dark, were as near to him as the pipes beneath his feet. All his, all his, in the waning of a few moons.

Gluttony was destroyed, and the other world's Envy had betrayed him, but these developments were hardly perturbing. The former was of no more use to him; the latter had already given all the information Father required. His calculations were almost complete now. By the time of the eclipse, they would be finished.

Father settled back in his chair. The rupture of a few weeks ago had deposited three new arrivals into this realm. Envy and Edward Elric were accounted for – only Van Hohenheim remained. Odd, to think that Hohenheim’s alternate self, of all people, had made it here. It had been a long time since Father had deigned to think of his old acquaintance, and he had been surprised to hear that three of the sacrifices had been his children. Even now, they were connected as they always had been.

But he had no more time to waste on pondering – no, not even he, immortal master of ages. The Promised Day drew near, and with it the moment of Truth.


End file.
